If You Want to Destroy My Sweater
by DeWinter79
Summary: Third story in the Sweater Series - Monroe & Renée's relationship is already far from easy, but if you mix in crazy Wesen, relatives, an ex, and Nick Burkhardt, it's a recipe for disaster! How much pain and drama can they take before their relationship unravels? Will the crazy 'L' word conquer all, or will someone cut the thread they've been hanging on to? (Monroe x OC)
1. Chapter 1

**NOTE:** This is the third story in **"The Sweater Series"**

I recommend you read **"Sweaters are a Girl's Best Friend" **and then** "Fifty Shades of Gray Sweaters" **first before starting this one.

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**If You Want to Destroy My Sweater  
****By: DeWinter79**

**Chapter 1**

March in Portland was cloudy and rainy, much like it had been in January and February. At least it was consistently dreary. The desolate clouds above my head threatened to do more than just drizzle as I walked through the parking lot to the grocery store. I stayed focused on the weather. The gray sky was much better to think about instead of what was recently on my mind… Reapers.

When I went back home to Louisville, Kentucky last week for my dad's funeral I thought I'd be safe, but after the attack with two Reapers in the airport parking garage on Monday… Well, it seemed I wasn't safe anywhere. Now that I was back in Portland, Oregon, I'd been trying to keep my paranoid mind occupied, but was failing miserably. For the last two days I'd been peeking around every corner, waiting for a scythe to come out at me. I received a few curious looks, but it's hard to appear normal when your life is anything but.

To any human I looked like an average twenty-eight year old woman; I had a house, a job, and a boyfriend. I drove a Chevy, and I recycled just like everyone else on my street. They had no way of knowing that I was not-so-average, and I saw a whole 'other world' of creatures that normally couldn't be seen by the human eye. They also couldn't tell that my boyfriend, Monroe, was the same type of creature the brothers Grimm had vulgarized as the Big Bad Wolf in their famous fairy tales. He looked like a typical guy in his mid-thirties, but I could see him woge into his true form of a Blutbad when he was emotional, or during our runs through the woods.

I was used to being different. Different was the easiest way to define it, since I didn't know exactly what I was. Sure, seeing Wesen for what they really were had its moments, but overall I'd embraced what I could see. Since moving to Portland in January, I'd attempted to be normal and keep a low profile. That didn't work out quite like I'd planned. Portland wasn't like my hometown of Louisville, and during my short time here I'd starting dating Monroe the clockmaker, who, like I said, was also a Blutbad Wesen. It wasn't easy for a human and a wolf to have a conventional relationship, but we were figuring it out and making it work.

Monroe wasn't your typical Blutbad, thank goodness. He'd worked long and hard to be reformed, but maintaining a Wieder regimen wasn't easy while dating me and moonlighting as a Grimm consultant. In the few months prior, Monroe had deviated from his 'path of good' one too many times. Since then he'd been digging his claws into the back of the proverbial wagon to keep from falling off completely. Now that we were back in Portland, Monroe was resuming his Wieder ways and he'd been a stickler to his regimen. So far, so good.

Monroe had his hands full with me. Much to his chagrin, I'd been putting myself into more dangerous situations since we started dating. Wesen would woge into their creatures, and I'd adopted their German term for my own kind of surge. I looked the same on the outside, but inside the woge would hit me and my reckless nature would take over. My low profile was elevating since I'd let it slip to a Lowen and a Mauzhertz that I could see them for what they really were. Whoops?

Thanks to Monroe and my other Wesen friends, I wasn't alone. Above everyone else, my BFF, Chloe Haas, was whom I trusted most. Like all members of the Wesen community, Chloe could see exactly what I could see. She was a Karnickelhöhle Wesen, and that rabbit had been my soul mate since high school. I shared everything with her. Well, almost everything. Now that we lived over two-thousand miles apart it was getting harder to keep her in the loop. And since my recklessness was getting worse, some things were best left not mentioning.

Chloe worried about me almost as much as a mother would. Considering my own mom was oblivious of the supernatural part of my life, Chloe had every right to want to keep me safe. Well, at least she felt it was her right whether I thought so or not. Although I loved my best friend more than anything, I was leery to tell her about my Wesen escapades, especially the most recent one. To be honest, I was more afraid of her than I was of the Reapers. She'd go ballistic if she knew what had happened on the way back to Portland. It was just like me to find something more dangerous than a Lowen to mess with. Now to be fair, I didn't provoke this one. Maybe she'd understand and give me the benefit of the doubt since it wasn't my fault... this time.

The trip back to Louisville brought on more changes for me than just a loss of a parent. After stumbling upon paperwork in my mom's attic, I'd discovered I was adopted. I'd actually lost two biological parents when I was a month old. This knowledge gave me a whole new family tree in need of research. Perhaps I'd finally understand who I really was. I needed to figure out which part (if any) of my family was an ancestor of the Grimms, but I wasn't sure how. Okay, I take that back; I knew how, but I was dreading telling Nick that I'd lied to him.

Nick Burkhardt was what the Wesen community referred to as a 'Grimm,' and he was also Monroe's best friend. The term meant he was legitimately descended from the Grimm family. All those Brothers Grimm fairy tales were not so made-up. Grimms could see Wesen just like I could. Unlike me, he'd only been able to see the Wesen community for four months. Nick's Aunt Marie let him in on the family secret before she'd passed away. If it wasn't bad enough to be dying of cancer, poor Aunt Marie had to be attacked by a Reaper, too. Between the attempt on her life outside Nick's house, and then the ones in the hospital, she wasn't lucky enough to make it. Nick lost the only family he had left and coincidently the only link to his newfound heritage.

Nick sure didn't have it easy. From what Monroe had told me, he'd been injected with a big dose of the 'other world' in a very short amount of time. Being a detective for the Portland PD, he was seeing the darker side of the Wesen community. I was fortunate and worked as a Corporate Financial Trainer. I didn't see anywhere near as much evil as Nick had seen. Well, I'd seen more than my fair share recently with Lowen Gladiator Rings and now Reapers.

Now that we were back in Portland, I was going to lay my cards on the table and let the Grimm know all about my secret. Nick didn't know I could see exactly the same thing he could, although he was catching on that something was off about me. It was his job to detect liars, and all I'd done was lie since I'd met him. It was time to come clean, however, and I'd talk to him this weekend. There was a lot I needed to talk about. No reckless unveilings this time, just a car ride and maybe dinner. The car ride was for the reveal, the dinner was to soften the blow. I wasn't sure how to anticipate his reaction. Monroe was emphatic that Nick would be absolutely overjoyed. I wasn't expecting confetti and balloons out of the Grimm. I expected something much worse.

Monroe hadn't mentioned our tete-a-tete with the Reapers since we flew back to Portland on Monday. What could he say when his girlfriend single-handedly took down a Reaper? Nothing, apparently. My woge of recklessness had saved my life. It was more than just a rebellious streak; it seemed to be part of my ability. But what had happened to the second Reaper that Monroe had 'taken care of'? Probably best never to know. Reapers weren't the easiest Wesen to take down. They were hired out specifically to kill Grimms, so yeah, they were pretty tough creatures. Someone out there knew more than I did about what I really was if they were sending these guys after me. Monroe had told me the Pinstripe Duo were Hässlichen. I'd never seen a Troll before, but recently I'd been running across new Wesen that I'd only read about in Chloe's notebooks, and even some I didn't know the name for. These guys were definitely the kind I didn't want to run into again… ever.

I stopped the movie reel in my mind and gave a heavy sigh as I pushed my cart though the grocery store. Portland weather just wasn't interesting enough to keep the memory of the Reapers away. I shoved the negative thoughts out and focused on boxes of cereal, and whether or not I wanted fresh or frozen vegetables. I went with frozen because I was an awful cook. Monroe was scowling in my head as I added a few bags of Bird's Eye peas and carrots to my cart. He was a fresh and organic kind of guy. Quick and easy, that worked for me instead.

The last two days I'd been practically living with Monroe. He'd let me leave for work, but that was all. Tonight, however, I was going home, which was why I needed some kind of food in the house. Well, something to get me by for a day or so at least.

'Hold On' was softly playing in the store and I hummed along while prowling the aisles.

"_Don't you know, things can change,  
Things'll go your way,  
If you hold on for one more day..."_

Holding on wasn't an easy feat anymore, but the song was comforting in a way while I shopped.

I picked up a container of tofu and looked longingly at the beef aisle as I rolled on past. I was quitting meat cold turkey. Hmm... turkey. Sorry, where was I? Yes, I was giving up my meat eating ways and going vegetarian. Monroe had been one for ten years, save a few lapses here and there. Granted, eating a rabbit in the woods was a little different than a cheeseburger, but overall he was doing well with his diet. Changing my diet helped with his temptations. Besides, I had Wesen friends who would woge into common meals, so when you thought about it... yeah, best not to think about it.

My phone rang just as I was turning my cart to the bread aisle.

"Hey, are you okay?" Monroe asked with concern while I decided between rye and whole wheat. "I didn't hear from you after work."

I put the whole wheat in my cart. "Yeah, I'm fine. Remember I was going to stop at the grocery after work?"

"Grocery… right. Yeah, we talked about that, didn't we?"

"We did. So are you okay?"

"I'm good," he said, still sounding uneasy, "but I just wanted to, you know, check in on you."

"I'm being careful," I assured him. I was peeking around corners even in the grocery store, but I wouldn't tell Monroe that. I really hated being this paranoid.

"You think you'll be home soon?"

"Yeah, I have few more things to pick up and I'm heading straight home."

"Good." Monroe seemed more relieved. "Call me when you're on the way, okay?"

"Sure, I'll call you." I smiled into the phone to put his mind more at ease. I was forcing that smile something awful lately.

I put the phone back in my pocket and darted through the rest of the aisles and headed to the checkout lane. Two grocery bags later, I was buckled up in my trusty blue Chevy Malibu and I called Monroe back.

"Glad to know you're headed home. I'll meet you there."

"You're coming to my place tonight?" I asked hiding my panic. My house was a mess. Since I'd spent every night at Monroe's, I hadn't had time to tidy up my own house. "I thought I was going to be on my own tonight."

"Yeah, well maybe it would better for me to stick around," he said. "I thought we might change it up a bit, you know, stay at your place for a change." That genuine smile of his trickled through the phone. At least he was in a better mood. Regardless, I drove faster than I probably should've so I'd get there first.

"Okay, that might be nice," The speedometer was creeping up well past the limit. I kept an eye out for red and blue lights in my rearview mirror.

"I'll pack a few things and I'll see you soon." Pressing the end button with my free hand, I tossed my cell phone on the passenger seat. The drive back was like the Indy 500 as I raced home. Monroe's pale yellow VW Beetle was nowhere in sight as I turned on my street and I let out a contented sigh.

Dashing inside, I put away my groceries and did a quick clean, stuffing a few things in the closets upstairs. Considering I was still in my brown dress and heels, I managed to work rapidly to get everything in order. There was a knock on the door right as I was finishing up. Perfect timing! I quickly headed back downstairs and forced my breaths as I opened the door. Monroe was on the other side and looked me over.

"Whoa, did you just finish a marathon?" he asked as he walked into my living room. He pulled off his tan coat, Old Spice drifting through my hallway as he hung it up next to mine on the coat rack.

"I was upstairs when you knocked, so I ran downstairs." I took a slow breath as I spoke. He didn't need to know I'd been running around the house like a chicken with its head cut off. Hmm… chicken.

Monroe did a once over my living room with his eyes. "Not a staubmaus in sight," he chuckled as he smoothed his hand down his green plaid shirt. "You know, you didn't have to clean for my benefit."

"I just tidied up a bit," I said casually. "And I normally don't have dust bunnies." I gave a teasing scowl as I picked up on the German.

"Everything go okay at the grocery?" That concern came back to his voice.

"No Reapers, if that's what you mean," I was tired of skirting around the issue. I'd been avoiding the 'R' word as often as I was avoiding the crazy 'L' word. Of the two, I'd talk about the Reapers.

"Well, uh, that's good then," Monroe stammered as he sat down on my persian blue couch. "I mean, I realize they aren't going to be hiding in the apple bin or anything, but it's more than just Reapers I'm worried about, you know."

"No lions in the freezer, either." I tried to grin so he knew I wasn't being sarcastic.

"Well, I'd hate to come across a Lowen-sicle," his laugh was awkward and there was still worry in his eyes. I sat down beside him on the couch, leaning in to him.

"I can't stop living my life, I have to go outside and face whatever is out there," I sighed a little too much. I'd said it to remind myself as much as to remind Monroe.

"I wish there was something more I could do, you know, to make sure there isn't a repeat of what happened on Monday."

"There may not be a repeat. Someone out there is missing two Reapers and maybe that'll give them something to think about before they dispatch any others."

Monroe frowned as I looked up into his soulful brown eyes. "I don't think it works that way." Couldn't he just agree with me so we'd stop talking about it? I ought to know better than that.

"Maybe I need to carry some pepper spray," then I mumbled, "or a gun."

"Renée, you don't need a gun," Monroe quickly responded. "Have you even shot a gun before?"

"I'm from Kentucky. I've used a gun," I said. "I was a teenager, and it was at soda cans, but I've used one." My dad had wanted me to go hunting with him. I couldn't handle shooting animals, for obvious reasons, but he'd taught me how to use his rifle on harmless coke cans. I was a decent shot if I recalled, but I was thirteen, so it had been quite a while ago.

"Reapers are different from cans, don'tcha think?" He eyed me and I understood what he was getting at as I nodded. Still, I needed to have something to protect myself. I suppose I could carry around a metal pipe if need be. Apparently I was good with one of those. I laughed inwardly at the thought.

"Well I'm home safe tonight," I said while hugging him. "With you," I added with a smile on my lips. "Would you like to take a run with me tonight?"

"Oh, not tonight."

"I thought you said you wanted to get a run in this week?"

"Yeah, well perhaps it's better if we stay indoors, you know, since everything that's happened. Besides, it's too close to the full moon. Probably not the best time to be out anyway, dude." He watched me intently. "But you knew that, right?" He tilted his head slightly as he spoke.

There were many things I didn't know about Blutbaden. I was learning as I went, but I hadn't come right out and told Monroe that his kind were still a mystery to me.

"Right, of course," I replied and nodded like that made perfect sense.

He gave me a discerning look. "You have no clue, do ya?" I couldn't hide things from Monroe like I could everyone else. It frustrated me to no end.

"I thought you didn't need full moons." I said the words confidently, trying to keep his gaze.

"We don't need them, but they don't sit well with us." He shuddered slightly in his seat. The flash of red in his eyes seemed to hold memories of full moons past. What he was thinking about? My curiosity wanted to know more. No, it was best not to know.

"Okay, so no running. Wanna come to yoga with me?" I chuckled.

Monroe seemed to consider the idea as he stroked his bearded chin. "I could do that."

"All right," I said with mild surprise. He was taking me up on my offer? I didn't see that one coming. "It's rudimentary compared to your Bikram, I'll give you fair warning."

Monroe laughed. "Most things are."

"Let's get ready and we'll walk over." I tilted my head up at him. "You're okay to walk over at night, right?"

"You really have no clue," he laughed. I rolled my eyes slightly and stood, then went to my bedroom to change. As I got dressed into my blue tank top and black yoga pants, I smiled. We were doing couple-like things. We were going to do yoga together. Most people would find that cheesy, but there was something about it I really liked. It was something normal.

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A/N: Welcome back! I'm posting chapters, but I'll be honest, I'm still writing this story. It's gonna be a long one, but I hope to have it fully uploaded by the time the show starts. (crossing fingers) Thank you for wanting to continue to read the adventures of Monroe and Renée. (Monée. lol!) As before with story two, stay with me on some of these twists and turns. We've got an action-packed tale with *many* Grimm characters, more OCs, and even my own little "Wesen of the Week" tales thrown in.

Enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

I walked into the yoga studio first and eyed Natalie White, who gave me an earnest smile that drew across her freckled face. She eyed Monroe behind me and gave me an approving nod, but then she directed me with her eyes to our instructor. Mr. Foxy Loxy had returned. Natalie was trying hard not to grimace, but it still came through. That grimace reminded me of the conversation we had of her last experience with Mr. Foxy Loxy and the door that had to be replaced because of it. That she was even staying for the class was a bit of a surprise to me. My eyes went back to Monroe, who had already recognized what Mr. Foxy Loxy was, and he gave me a sour look.

"I didn't know he was going to be here," I whispered. "Besides, you have _nothing_ to worry about."

A few ladies gave Monroe a second glance; some gave him more than just a glance. He was wearing a black t-shirt and black drawstring, exercise pants that fit him well in all the right places. Although our yoga class was open to all, it was most always female participants. We'd occasionally have a guy come in, but it was few and far between. To have two men in the room tonight was practically unheard of.

There was enough space to put my lavender mat next to Natalie. Monroe had brought my blue back-up mat, and he laid it beside mine.

"So are you going to be okay tonight?" I whispered to Natalie, whose grimace was still visible.

"I'm the bigger person," Natalie said. "I can do better than him anyway." She smiled at this thought and I smiled back. Leaning forward, she passed her smile over to Monroe. "Good to see you here. Have you ever tried yoga before?"

"Yeah, I'm well-versed in the methodology," he replied with a nod.

"Well, Robin is tough, so be prepared for a workout."

Monroe scoffed lightly. "Oh, I'm sure I could run circles around this dude."

Mr. Foxy Loxy turned and his steel gray eyes had a quick look my way. That sparkling smile of his appeared. I thought briefly of Christian Grey from that _Fifty Shades_ book I'd read. With that copper red hair, those eyes, and well… that body, he was probably getting quite a few extra dates since that book came out. Not that he needed any help. The ladies tonight were hanging on his every word. Mr. Foxy Loxy's smile soon vanished and he appeared quite frightened instead as his woge sprang out. Out of the corner of my eye I caught the glow of Monroe's red eyes glowering our instructor's way.

"Monroe, is that necessary?" I asked almost silently without turning my head.

"Just letting him know what's what," he advised with the same volume. I repressed a smile and just shook my head. Monroe the protector. He was always looking out for me.

Mr. Foxy Loxy let us know that Alicia was ill tonight, and as before, he'd kick our routine up a notch if we were okay with that. I was definitely okay with a faster pace. Natalie was cursing under her breath. Monroe's face was unreadable. I gave him a warm smile and his face softened. Regardless of his unnecessary animosity toward Mr. Foxy Loxy, he was with me, and I was more than glad.

We went through the flow of poses, but Natalie struggled a bit under the intensity. Mr. Foxy Loxy steered clear of our back row as he helped the other ladies with their poses. Between Natalie and Monroe our row was going to be ignored.

"Could he slow down just a little?" Natalie panted over to me as she brushed her red hair off her face. "I swear he's doing this just to get back at me."

"I really don't think that's his intent," I assured her and we moved into a Half Moon.

"I'm bringing Alicia some chicken soup," said Natalie as she stumbled through the pose. "She needs to get back here soon."

I held back a laugh. "I'm sure she'll be well and back here soon enough."

I turned to Monroe. His Half Moon looked perfect. Too bad it was near a full moon, because I'd really wanted to run with him tonight. What could a full moon do to him, exactly? Even without the run, this was turning out to be a good evening. Monroe smiled at me as we flowed from the Triangle to the Reverse Warrior with ease. For the next hour we moved to Mr. Foxy Loxy's instruction and we were normal. No Reapers, Wesen, or Grimm talk to cloud our minds. Perfect Zen. Well, except for Natalie's snide comments, but I forgave her for that.

We ended our meditation with a 'Namaste' and Natalie pulled me aside.

"So, if you're feeling up to it, I'd still like you to go to the Art Gala next week. Think you can make it?"

"Yes, I was planning on attending."

"Great!" Natalie beamed at me. She gave me the details and the address for next Tuesday evening. I'd need to add dress shopping to my agenda this weekend.

Natalie left the studio without so much as a nod in Mr. Foxy Loxy's direction, and she carefully closed the door behind her. I was impressed she'd held in her temper. Monroe reached for my arm as the rest of the class surrounded our instructor, vying for attention.

"So, that was pretty simple, right?" I asked Monroe as he held me close, just a little protectively.

"Almost too simple," Monroe scoffed. "I don't feel like I got much of a workout at all. You really oughta try Bikram with me sometime. Now that's a workout," he smiled with his eyes.

I grinned up at him. "It's on my to-do list." He let me go so I could roll up my mat.

Mr. Foxy Loxy kept his head down as we both left the studio. Apparently Monroe's warnings had put him in his place, so to speak.

"You didn't tell me he was good looking," Monroe said as soon as the door closed behind us.

I glanced up at him. "You think he's good looking? Why, Monroe, I didn't realize he was your type." My playful smirk wasn't reciprocated.

"Not funny," he scowled at me. "Besides, redheads are trouble." It sounded as if he was speaking from experience.

"I'm kind of into curly brunettes, myself," I replied while ruffling through his hair. He chuckled softly and reached for my hand.

As we walked down the street back to my house, I glanced up at the sky. The moon was pretty full. Its large, yellow form peeked out from behind the clouds. I pulled out my phone to check the full moon schedule for the rest of the year. From what it looked like, I'd need to keep track of the lunar cycles.

"What are ya doing?" Monroe asked curiously as he watched me type across my phone keys.

"Just adding a few dates to my calendar," I vaguely replied. "So, are you ready to pass out some business cards next Tuesday?" I asked with a smile.

"Sure. Well, as long as you're still okay with going."

"Yeah, I can mingle with the socialites for an evening."

Monroe laughed as I held his arm. "At least you'll look good doing it."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"So lemme get this straight… she's dating that vampire dude, who was captured, and then she pretended to date the werewolf to find the vampire?" Monroe asked with uncertainty and took another bite of vegetable pad thai from the take out box.

"Yeah, but then Sookie broke up with Bill after she found him and now she isn't dating anyone," I explained as we watched _True Blood_. I could relate to Sookie Stackhouse. My supernatural relationship aside, I was constantly being asked what I was by Wesen. Fortunately for me, I was getting closer to the answers for those questions.

"So, does the blonde vampire guy wanna date her, too?" Monroe shook his head and I laughed.

"Pretty much everyone wants her."

"Must be nice," said Monroe. "But that werewolf… I mean, the pure mechanics of a man turning completely into in a normal wolf are, like, preposterous at best."

"And that's why it's fiction." I nudged him as I smiled. "The real version is much better." I popped a dumpling into my mouth. Not that I was really watching for when Alcide turned into a wolf. His shirtless and pantsless scenes were much more interesting. I had to admit he was pretty hot, and I was a sucker for a guy with a little salt in his beard.

"So, is this show always so confusing?"

"There's a lot you've missed," I shrugged. "Let's see what else is on." I flipped the channels and spotted _The Spy Who Loved Me_, so I changed it over. "You can't go wrong with James Bond."

"You're a Bond fan?" Monroe's eyes lit up.

"Absolutely. But I'm more of a Sean Connery fan than Roger Moore."

"Well, yeah. That's because he's, like, the epitome of Bond," said Monroe with a grin.

We spent the rest of dinner talking 007 while we watched Bond save the world. It was turning out to be a wonderful, normal night.

"Ya see, now even Bond knows how to rock a bowtie," Monroe gestured.

"Yes, but it's not plaid. Only you can rock a plaid bowtie."

"Not everyone can be as fashion savvy as I am." He worked a noodle into his mouth. "Besides, I can wear solid color bowties, too."

"Right." I stifled a laugh. Monroe elbowed me. We went back to discussing the movie, and Monroe showed off with his Bond trivia here and there.

"We're like bonding over James Bond here. That's kinda awesome." Monroe pointed his chopsticks at the TV as the movie ended. "But I have to say that _Dr. No_ has gotta be my favorite Bond movie. Honey Ryder. Man, oh, man." Monroe gave me a sideways glance. "Uh, I mean, she's not the reason why I like that movie, but, umm…" he mumbled, blushing slightly under his beard.

I laughed at him. "Jill Masterson was pretty hot in _Goldfinger_."

"Oh, yeah. She was smokin' hot. Well, until they, you know, paint her gold and she dies. Tragic, man." Monroe shook his head. He turned to me, furrowing his brow. "Umm, you know, I really can't talk hot Bond babes with you. That's kinda… yeah."

I grinned. "But we haven't even discussed Tiffany Case yet."

He slid a hand up my thigh. "Let's talk about how hot you are and how totally sexy it is that you'll watch Bond with me."

"We could discuss that," I coyly replied as Carly Simon sang through the credits.

"_Nobody does it better.  
Makes me feel sad for the rest.  
Nobody does it half as good as you.  
Baby, you're the best…"_

I sang along as Monroe ran his hands further up my thigh, massaging with his fingers. Shifting my body toward him, I leaned in and kissed him gently. He held my face in his hands, kissing me back more deeply. We didn't discuss much of anything else shortly after. Staying here tonight wasn't such a bad idea after all. Crap, but what about his routine?

"Oh!" I stopped mid-kiss "How are you going to get your Pilates in tomorrow morning?"

Monroe gave me a knowing smile. "I came prepared." He kissed down my face, inching toward my neck. "The reformer machine is in the VW," he said between kisses. "The perks of portable equipment, you know?" He paused and let out a short sigh. "I mean, it was a pain in the rear to get that machine in my back seat, but I wasn't gonna leave it behind."

"That's good," I said with a grin. "I wouldn't want your staying here to interfere with your workouts."

"It was my idea to come over tonight, remember? You didn't think I'd slack off so soon, did ya?"

"No, I didn't think you'd slack off." Monroe saw right though my response.

"Yeah, right," he smirked then kissed me again. "You worry too much." As his mouth met my neck, I didn't care what he did at that moment as long as he kept doing that. I slipped my hands under his gray t-shirt, pressing my fingers into his back.

"I only worry because…" I trailed off. His lips feathered down my neck and I softly moaned instead of finishing my sentence. He lifted my hair and stopped again.

"Your neck… The bite mark. It's… gone."

"Yeah, it took a few days, but it healed."

He examined my neck more closely, running his fingers across the nape. "But there's not even a scar." He actually sounded disappointed.

"I heal quickly. I always have."

"Hmm…"

I moved to look at him. "Everything okay?"

Monroe shook his head. "Yeah, it's just that kinda bite oughta leave something." He looked at my expression. "I mean, I'm glad you've healed, that's just really fast, is all."

"Well, maybe if it happens again you won't have to feel all guilty about it." I gave him a smirk.

"Yeah, I suppose." Monroe seemed lost in thought.

I leaned back into him, kissing down his face to his neck. "Where were we?"

I'd found that if I traced my tongue along his cheek it sparked something crazy in him. I used my find to snap him out of his thoughts. He was back to my mouth in an instant. Monroe angled me back on the couch.

"So, tomorrow night…" he said while he lifted my shirt off me. "We've gotta figure something out." He went back to my lips, kissing longer this time. "I kinda do the solo thing on full moon nights." He stopped to look up at me with his brown eyes wide. "But I don't want you to be, you know, on your own right now."

"I can handle being on my own." I forced a smile while holding on to his arms. He didn't need to know I was paranoid. "I ought to be safe for one night."

"Whoa, that reminds me…" Monroe sat up and stood up from the couch. "I'll be right back."

I tried not to pout. "Where are you going?"

"Just something I need to take care of. Just stay put. It won't take long." He grinned as he grabbed his green plaid shirt off the chair and went outside, closing the front door behind him. I sat up and adjusted my bra, idly humming the Bond song.

"_But like heaven above me,  
The Blutbad who loved me,  
Is keepin' all my secrets safe tonight…"_

And boy, did I have plenty of secrets. I picked up the remote from the coffee table and turned off the TV.

A few minutes passed and I stood, peeking out the window. Monroe was hovering by my fence. He moved to the left and then moved left some more. He was walking the perimeter of my fence facing away from the window. What was he doing out there? He kept walking and I lost sight of him as he turned the corner. Was he…? No that couldn't possibly be what he was doing. I sat back down on the couch shaking my head. Another few minutes passed and Monroe returned seeming satisfied.

"I'm going to wash up," he said, heading toward my bathroom. When he came back I gave him a deadpan stare.

"What?" he asked while tilting his head at my expression.

"I'm sorry, but did you just urinate on my fence?" I blinked a few times before he responded.

"Uhh…" he scratched the back of his head. "I was kinda… Well, okay, yes. It's not a secret that Blutbaden mark their territory."

I nodded slowly, processing the info. So yes, my boyfriend went out and pissed on my fence. Our normal night just went back to anything but.

"So, is this your territory now?" I asked half teasing, half curious.

"Yeah, well, umm… I'm staying here tonight, and I'm sure I'll be staying here other nights, too." Monroe sat back on the couch, his hands lodged between his knees. "But it wards off predators and, well, maybe Reapers, too." He turned to face me. "At least, you know, that's what I'm hoping it'll do."

I nodded again leaning into his arm. "Okay, so I'm protected now."

"Yeah, in a way." Monroe curled the rest of his arm around me.

"Most people just get a burglar alarm," I said and he chuckled, kissing the top of my head.

"But this will keep things worse than burglars away. Plus, it doubles as a fertilizer, so it has a dual purpose."

"The alarm companies sure don't have that as an option," I laughed. "Does it get rid of Jehovah's Witnesses, too?"

"Dude, nothing is that powerful." He curled his other arm around me holding me tightly. "So, you wanna pick up where we left off?"

"Sure, let's go to the bedroom..." I nodded toward the bedroom door. "And I like to be shaken, not stirred."

* * *

A/N: Aww, so it's never quite normal when Monroe and Renée are together, huh? But at least they still have fun.

Your author is clueless when it comes to James Bond, so research was done and the movie was watched for this chapter. Yeah, I suffer for my art. LOL! (Okay, it wasn't that bad.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

My alarm blared at eight o'clock. I shot up and turned to the empty spot beside me. Of course it would be empty. Monroe had that built-in clock programmed for six in his brain. Oh, my. That meant he'd been alone... in my house... for two hours! Shaking my head, I sprung out of the bed, smoothing my hair down as I went.

I crept out of the bedroom. Maybe he was in the living room, reading a book or watching TV. My stomach fluttered. The living room was empty. Where was he? The faucet running in my kitchen answered my question.

"Folgers?" Monroe's voice echoed. "I feel like I'm back at your mom's." Those ears of his knew exactly where I was. The faucet went off and Monroe poked his head into the living room. "Have I taught you nothing?"

"You've taught me the joy of going to your place for coffee," I responded with a slight grin.

He shook his head at me and went back into the kitchen. "Are you sure you're not a bachelor?" he called out with a laugh. When I walked into the kitchen, I found him head-deep in my fridge. "There's, like, nothing in here," he noted, closing the door and straightening his spine.

"There's enough to get me by," I said, defending my paltry selection. Even after going to the grocery yesterday I didn't have much to choose from, but I wasn't going to admit it.

He shook his head at me, clicking his tongue like a scolding parent. "Okay, we desperately need to, like, make a trip to the store and stock this kitchen of yours."

"Uhh… sure." With a slow nod, I bit my top lip. "We could do that."

"I have a surprise for you." Monroe turned toward my cabinets and opened the doors, pointing inside. "I organized your spices. Well, the half dozen or so you have… and I rearranged under and around your sink." Looking over his shoulder at me, he paused. "Uh, you aren't offended that I made some changes, are ya?" he asked sheepishly. "I mean, I hope that's okay."

"No, by all means." I beamed at him. Did he really think I'd be upset? Shocked was more like it. "I usually leave the kitchen alone. You know how I am in here." This was the most activity my kitchen had seen since Monroe's cooking 101. Even then I'd kept him out of the shelves.

His face faded into a relaxed smile at my response. "Good, because I have some ideas."

I drew in a breath. "Ideas?" Oh, my. He was going to Monroe-ify my kitchen. Okay, so maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. After all, I adored his kitchen. It was meticulously laid out with an order to each and every piece. My kitchen, however, held some rudimentary tools, and I kept it clean, mostly because I rarely ever used it.

"It doesn't have to be this way." He gave a nod toward my coffee pot. "You know, we could get you your own French press and some better utensils," he suggested while peering into a few drawers. "Yeah, definitely better utensils."

"Better yet, I could just stay over at your place," I offered, giving my sad, little coffee pot a fleeting look. Now I was craving Monroe's hand-crafted coffee.

"You need a whisk." Jumping from drawer to drawer, he moved about the room, muttering to himself as he went. "Bed, Bath, and Beyond has some great stuff." He had ignored my idea completely, apparently lost in his own thoughts.

While my boyfriend the wolf pilfered about, I smiled. The kitchen seemed brighter in here today with Monroe in it. Glancing up, my smile changed into a grin. No, it was _literally_ brighter. The light bulb I couldn't reach when it had burned out weeks ago had been replaced.

"You changed my light bulb?" I pointed up at the glow above us. "Where did you find spare ones? I didn't think I had any in the house."

"You didn't," he replied casually while sifting through my silverware drawer. "After I did my workout, I noticed the burned out bulb in here, so I searched around a bit. You had one out in the hallway, too, by the way." He gestured with my spatula as he spoke. "So, I went out and picked you up a couple of boxes... along with a few other things. That's the other surprise."

Other things? What else had he bought? I looked around the room. Sure enough, there was more in here than just new lighting. Thanks to Monroe, my kitchen was getting a face lift. I spotted blue-flowered dish towels, a trivet, (was that what it was called?) and a spoon rest. And that was just at first glance. Something wirey caught my attention beside the sink. A dish rack?

I picked it up like it was foreign object. "I have a dishwasher, Monroe," I said amusedly while holding it out. "Why do I need a dish rack?"

"Everyone needs a dish rack, man," he replied matter-of-factly, squatting down to scope out my bottom drawers. "Much like everyone needs dishes." He craned his neck to look at me. "Do you even own any?"

"Top-left shelf." I motioned up. "And before you say anything, there's plenty in there for one person."

"I'll be the judge of that." Monroe stood quickly, and the clicking of his tongue began once more as he opened the door. "This is all? Seriously?"

"Enough for one person," I repeated. While I repositioned the rack, my eyes landed on a set of canisters. "You bought these, too?" I pointed at the silver-lidded set.

Monroe nodded. "Not that you have anything to put in them." He chuckled, but there was a disappointed sigh underneath. "And I picked you up a nice pair of silicone oven mitts. They're over there." He cast a glance toward my charcoal marble countertop.

Crossing the room, I poked the blue, squishy material with one finger. "And these are better because…?"

He turned around and his eyebrows rose. "Do you ever watch the _Food Network_?"

"I'm more of a _VH1_ gal," I quipped back as I slid one of the mitts over my hand. Scrunching my nose, I took it off quickly. It was even squishier on the inside. I hung them on a hook by the stove. At least the color matched my walls since that's where they were going to remain.

"So, we need to, like, talk about your kitchen accessories," Monroe said while continuing to rummage through my cupboards. "Well, you know, the lack thereof would be a better way to put it."

"We can discuss those later." I came up behind him, coaxing him away from the upper cabinets, which he was about to start on next. "Monroe, you really didn't have to do all this."

"Nonsense. I wanted to." Monroe flashed his trademark smile as he turned to face me. "You needed bulbs anyway, and then I noticed you didn't have a dish rack… or much of anything else in your kitchen, for that matter." He made a grimace. "I really wish I'd gone through these cabinets and your fridge before I'd gone out, though." Moving past me, he inspected my wine glass shelf, giving it an approving nod. At least I had one thing set up right. When it came to wine, I was good. "Besides, I just figured I'd, you know, keep busy while you were sleeping," he added.

"You should've woken me when you got up this morning," I said. "I would've worked out with you." Okay, so perhaps that was stretching the truth, but at least he wouldn't have gone all Martha Stewart if I'd been awake.

"Nah. You needed the rest." Giving me a swift kiss, Monroe darted past me again before I could protest. He was wound up like a cinnamon bun. Cinnamon. Why did I smell cinnamon?

"Are you baking something?" I asked as the scent lingered near my nose.

"Uh, no. There's nothing _here_ to bake anything with." Monroe stopped moving long enough to smirk at me. "It's probably the cinnamon and sugar candle I lit in the living room. Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it smells kinda… tasty." Dangit. Now I wanted coffee and a cinnamon bun. "We'll have plenty of time for this little project later," I said while I rubbed Monroe's shoulders, trying to edge him away from the cabinets again. "You wanna grab coffee and breakfast before I head off to work?"

"Yeah, maybe..." His voice trailed off as he went back to the cabinets.

I sighed quietly. He was a man on a mission. "We'll go on a shopping trip next week, how does that sound?"

"Great!" He turned quickly with his brown eyes wide. "I'll work on a list!"

"A list. Good." Oh, and what a list that would turn out to be. "Well, if you're okay, I'm gonna grab a shower and get ready for work."

"Sure, sure," he said. "I'll be in here." He motioned me on as he continued to bounce around my kitchen like an energetic rubber ball. Maybe he should've spent more time on the Pilates machine this morning.

I turned to leave, but then stopped before I got to the kitchen doorway. "Monroe," I said, and he poked his head around an open cabinet door. "Thank you."

He gave me a wink. "You can thank me later."

"I'm sure I'll find ways." I chuckled, shaking my head as I headed toward the bathroom.

With a released breath, I closed the bathroom door. There was no doubt Monroe was wonderful, but, boy... Although I had to admit what he did was beyond sweet. If Monroe was going to continue to stay over, I'd have to adapt to my kitchen being utilized… but that wasn't such a bad thing. Smiling, I turned on the shower and lathered up while humming Robert Johnson's 'Come On in My Kitchen.' One thing was for sure, the idea of my own French press was absolutely delightful!

* * *

A/N: Having Monroe in Renée's kitchen is an eye opener. LOL!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

After hiding in my office the last few days for lunch, it was high time I ventured outside. I couldn't hole myself up because of those damned Reapers. There was a café a few blocks away which seemed like the ideal spot for lunch today. It was a place I frequented often since I started working here. The patrons that ate there were from the neighboring businesses, so there was always an opportunity for some socializing. Today I picked it because it was close by, and I could keep alert as I walked there.

The sky was portentous today. The usual gray clouds were replaced by dark, pendulous ones that threatened to let loose at any moment. I made it a point to walk briskly, avoiding anyone in a black trench coat while humming 'Don't Fear the Reaper' as I went. It was becoming my new mantra.

I arrived at JCafé on Northeast Holladay Street in record time. The place wasn't crowded, but there were enough people to keep my eyes occupied. The waitress took my order of a hummus & tabouleh plate, and I scanned the restaurant for a table.

My usual spot by the window was vacant. I slid into my seat, pointing the chair at an angle so I could people watch. I didn't recognize anyone today. Too bad, because it would've been better to have someone I knew here.

I munched on my veggies as a familiar face came through the door. It was a woman that worked at one of the law firms next door who also enjoyed this little place. We'd had lunch together a number of times and she seemed friendly. She wasn't genuine, but it was likely her profession was partly to blame for that. Still, she seemed interested in chatting, and I welcomed the human interaction. I really needed to start branching out and make some friends.

"Adalind!" I called out as she walked into the café. Thank goodness she came here for lunch today. The perfectly petite blonde, who made Chloe look like a plain Jane, turned and smiled in my direction. She walked over to my table with her artificial smile in place.

"Hi, you're here! I hadn't seen you in a while and was starting to think you'd found a new place to start having lunch," she chuckled.

"No, I was out of town for my father's funeral."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that, Renée." Her intense blue eyes softened as she sat down across from me. A waitress came by and she ordered her lunch. "So tell me everything."

I told her what had happened and she nodded in all the right places. She reached for my hand. Hers were like ice and a shiver ran clear down my neck.

"You must have been outside awhile," I said. "Your hands are freezing."

"Oh!" She nervously put her hands in her lap. "Yeah, I stood out front with one of the girls from work, sorry."

Her meal arrived and we had supernatural-free conversation that I relished in. Topics like sales at fashion stores and the newest bistros to try were discussed at length. Just real normal, female conversation. The topic changed to relationships, and I mentioned that Monroe and I we're doing really well.

"So, whatever happened to the guy you had your eye on?" I asked. Adalind had told me about a guy she'd been talking to off and on since November. They met when he'd kept her out of harm's way from a bee that was chasing her. She was highly allergic and said that bees were practically deadly if one got close enough. Adalind was real vague about him and hadn't mentioned him in a while.

"It's been a few months since I've seen him," her eyes twinkled as she spoke, "but it's a work in progress."

"Good things come to those who wait," I said with a smile.

Her lips curled up. "That is so true."

The alarm on my cell phone buzzed, startling me. "Oh my, I really need to head back to work. I have a training in twenty minutes!" I stood up while gathering my things and tossed my phone back into my shoulder bag.

"I do hope I see you again for lunch soon, Renée." Adalind stood as well and that artificial smile reappeared on her lips.

"Of course!" I replied as we paid for our meals. "I enjoy our conversations."

"So do I," she beamed as we both headed for the door.

As we walked out, Adalind got into a black SUV with tinted windows. Funny, she only worked down the street. Why did she need a ride? I shook off the thought as I hurried back to my building. I had ten trainees waiting on me!

* * *

A/N: Can we say Ruh-oh?! (;


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Traffic was at a standstill and it was pouring rain outside. The deluge of water whacked against my windshield, proving my wipers almost useless. My hair was still soaking wet from making a mad dash to my car after work. No need for an umbrella in Portland? Yeah, right. Granted, I hadn't seen it this bad out since I'd moved here. The weatherman had promised only a light drizzle, but this was anything but. Funny how they could get it this wrong and still keep their jobs. If I'd made this kind of mistake, I'd be explaining myself in the boss' office, for sure.

I hummed along with my MP3 player as 'Here Comes the Rain Again' blared in my car. It was only befitting. My cell rang and I turned off my music. Monroe's name flashed on the display.

"Hey, so you're going straight in tonight, right?" Monroe asked before I could even say hello.

"Yeah, I'll be in for the night," I assured him. "So, what happened to only light drizzles?"

"Yeah, well, we get a good rain every now and then. This one just happens to be now."

"So what are your plans tonight? Are you gonna chain yourself down in your basement or something?" I asked with a chuckle. The heavy sigh and the jostling of the phone from Monroe's shaking head was more than the response I needed.

"I'm ignoring that last comment," he said finally. "If you hear anything out of the ordinary tonight you call me or call Nick. Or better yet, call both of us."

"I'm sure Nick will appreciate it if I wake him up in the middle of the night because I hear a noise."

"That dude has gotten me out of bed for lesser things, so yeah, you call him."

I wasn't going to call Nick Burkhardt. What would I say? 'Yeah Nick, there's a guy with a scythe trying to break in.' I'm sure that would go over well considering he still didn't know my secret. This weekend would be a different story once I filled him in, however.

"I'll keep my phone close by," I said. "Monroe, I'll be okay," I added while trying to put a smile in my voice.

"I really hate leaving you alone," Monroe grumbled.

"What did we do last full moon?" Earlier today I'd finished putting the lunar dates into my calendar. On the last full moon in February we were definitely going out.

"Last full moon we went to the planetarium in the afternoon. You got off work early."

Of course, the planetarium! With all the events that had mounted in the last month, February seemed like eons ago. But it was coming back to me. Nice, normal, supernatural-free dates with Monroe. It was simpler back then. Granted, they were PG rated dates, but it was easier.

"You still there?" Monroe asked startling me out of my reverie. "Remember they even talked about the full moon, which at the time I thought was a little ironic that we picked that evening to go. But anyway, I had you home by four. Then I went back to my house that night, and well… que sera sera." He would recall that day better than I would from the sound of it.

"Yes, I remember," I said with a smile from the memory still lingering on my face. "Should I plan around these days in the future?"

"That's not necessary. I mean, I can still go do things. It's just better, and a ritual of mine for that matter, to stay in, play a little cello, have a nice glass of cabernet, and just mellow out. Maybe get a late night repair in, but that's touch and go, you know? But I'm debating forgoing it tonight and having you come over here."

"No, you need to stick with your routine," I said quickly. Routines were good for him. "Would it be all right to stay with you tomorrow night?"

"Yeah, of course. Wouldn't have it any other way." That genuine smile of Monroe's drifted through the phone and it warmed my heart. After a few more promises that I'd stay in tonight, I hung up with Monroe and went back to my music.

I thumbed through my MP3 player until I landed on Burt Bacharach singing 'Raindrops keep Falling On My Head.'

"'_Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin'.  
Because I'm free.  
Nothing's worrying me…" _

I sang along with the lyrics. Tonight I'd be just as worry-free as Mr. Bacharach was.

I dodged more rain to get inside the house and stepped ankle deep in a puddle before I'd made it to my stairs. Ugh. My toes squished in my black pumps. I kicked them off when I got inside and found a towel.

Once I was mostly dry, I changed into my comfy PJs and settled on the couch. As I got comfortable, I located my cell from my still damp bag and called home.

I dedicated an hour each day to phone calls with Mom, Chloe, and family. Sometimes it carried into two hours. Despite my horrible send off at the airport, I missed Louisville terribly. Mom always seemed in good spirits, but she was keeping the conversations light for my benefit. That was her way. Chloe kept me updated with her visits. Thank goodness she was making time to be with my mom. Fortunately, my Aunt Jenna was staying with mom at least until the end of April. Between her and Chloe, my mom had people around her that cared.

"So how are you and Monroe?" Mom beamed the words through the phone. She had cast the thoughts of me and my ex, Jack Monahan, getting back together to the wayside, which was a relief. Mom had told me earlier this week that she had really taken a liking to Monroe. She was pleased as punch that I was with 'such a kind and well-mannered man.'

"We're good," I said. "Just trying to get back to our routines now that we're in Portland again." Well, Monroe was trying to get back to both of his routines. I swam through a sea of flow charts and new protocols for a company our bank was acquiring in late spring. I'd welcomed the distraction and dove in, finishing much sooner on the groundwork than I'd wished. "How is Aunt Jenna?" I asked with a smile.

"Oh, she's fine. It's been good having her here with me. Now if I can keep Marjorie from feeling put out, then it will be better. She dropped by yesterday unannounced and stayed for dinner. I swear I had to literally shoo her out the door to get her to head home."

I stifled a chuckle. "I'm sure she just feels left out." Mom and Aunt Jenna had always been thick as thieves, but Aunt Marjorie felt like a third wheel. But when both of my mom's sisters got together it was always a disaster.

"Hopefully she'll understand I'm not playing favorites," Mom sighed. Of course, she was, but I'd never say that.

We talked more about little things Mom was doing to keep busy. I mostly listened and let her ramble on. She needed someone to listen more than anything.

"I'll call you tomorrow," I assured her as she said Aunt Jenna needed some help in the kitchen.

"Now, Sweetie, you know you don't need to call me every single day. I will be fine." That composure of hers came through the phone.

"It's more for me than it is for you," I reasoned.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, then you call anytime you like," she said thoughtfully.

"Good, because I need to hear your voice," I replied. "You should be getting a webcam in the mail in a week or so. Chloe can hook it up for you and we'll do some video chats soon."

"Oh, Renée, you know I'm no good with high tech things. I can use a computer just fine, but once you start adding gadgets I get lost."

"It's easy and Chloe will show you," I assured her.

"Okay, I'll try it, but if it's too complicated then you'll just have to make do with the telephone."

I laughed but agreed. Aunt Jenna was in the background, calling out about measuring spoons, so after telling Mom I loved her a few times, we hung up.

Next I gave a call to Chloe. She had plans to see my mom this week and was going to take her out on a shopping trip. My mom loved to shop as much as Chloe did, so that would be an expensive outing. The topic turned to our days at work.

"Girl, I had my hands full today. A sophomore decided to take all the mice from the science lab. After the principal gave him detention they sent him over to my office to talk out why he felt the need to set the mice free."

"That sounds like a fun chat."

"No, it gets worse. The kid was a Lausenschlange. He didn't set the mice free. The little punk ate them."

"Oh my... Well, that's awkward."

"Yeah, tell me about it. So, we had a nice little chat about eating school property. I told him next time I'd have to let his parents know. I don't remember Wesen in our class doing half the shit I catch these kids pulling. What's the Wesen world coming to?"

"You're asking the wrong gal," I replied.

"So, how was your day? Nothing crazy has happened since you two got back?"

"No, it's been quiet in Portland." Chloe had a direct link to my brain. She knew I was hiding something. I was trying to keep it a Reaper-free night, so I left it at that. "How's Harvey?" I asked, turning the conversation back toward her.

"We have another dinner date this weekend. If it's like the last one, then it's going to be all talk."

"Talking is good though, right?"

"Sure, it's just swell." Her sarcasm trickled out. "But you'd think there would be something more… anything more."

"You mean… not even a kiss yet?"

"No, Renée," she sighed angrily. "Not even a fucking kiss. Girl, I'm dying over here."

"Are you sure he doesn't want to just be friends?"

"No, he likes me. He compliments me and he keeps asking me out, so there's got to be something there, but… Dammit, I haven't had sex in like… Well, longer than I'd care to mention."

"Then why don't you make the first move?" Chloe was less old fashioned than I ever was.

"Well, what if I'm wrong and then it's all weird between us? Nah, he'll make a move this weekend. I've got this little strapless number that will have him wrapped around my finger, begging me to..."

I laughed. "Okay, I get the picture. So, um, any more news on Jack?"

"Like I told you the other day, Pete is still working on it. Jack's running around crying wolf to anyone who will listen. Most think he's finally hit a breaking point with his drinking and… you leaving."

"No one believes him though, right?"

"Girl, they just feel sorry for him. Which I guess is better than fitting him for a white coat. Although, that might not be a bad idea either."

"I just want him to get over it."

"Renée, that's just not happening. Maybe sometime… in a few years. But even with Pete's help he's not going to just ignore it. Can of worms, Renée. It's open and all over the place."

"Well, Pete should have my number, so let him know to update me."

"Why does Pete have your number?" Chloe asked suspiciously.

"Most of your siblings have my number… In case of an emergency." I coolly replied. She didn't need to know anything about the real reason.

"I'll let him know," she said, not questioning my response.

We said our goodbyes and I promised her I'd stay safe, as always.

After the phone calls the house was quiet. Unsettling even. The rain had picked up outside adding to the edgy ambiance. It was a dark and stormy night. Yeah, I'd read that creepy line one too many times. I moved about the house trying to find something to keep my mind off of being alone. I skimmed though a few of my books, tried to watch an episode of _Ghost Adventures_ on The Travel Channel, (which really didn't help settle my nerves) and did some laundry. My legs were restless and I couldn't sit still. Thoughts of Reapers crept slowly back to the surface of my mind. I needed someone here. I needed… company. Natalie! Perfect! I dialed her number.

"Hi, Natalie!" I said into the phone once she answered.

"Renée! This is a surprise! How are you?" she asked.

"Good. Hey, I was wondering if you'd be interested in coming over tonight?"

Without Monroe here I was freaking myself out. Besides, Natalie and I had never had a chance to really get to know each other. It was a great time to build on that friendship, plus it would prevent me from having a panic attack.

"Sure," she replied. "Like, come to your house?"

"Yeah, if that's okay. We could watch a movie or just chat. I have a bottle of wine and ..."

"A movie would be fun," she chimed in. "I have the perfect one to bring over."

I gave her the address. "It's about two blocks from the yoga studio."

"Oh, wow. So, you actually live in Snob Hill?" she questioned. "Gosh, sorry. I didn't mean it like that. That's just the nickname for that area."

I chuckled. "It's fine, Natalie. I don't find it all that snobby, though."

"I'll be over soon," she said and we hung up.

I glanced at my PJs. I was content with trading comfort for company. I went to change into something more presentable. I was feeling better already.

* * *

A/N: While I've never specified where Renée lives, I do have a house picked out for her. I'm sure someone actually lives there, so I'm not going to divulge the street, but I will say she lives off of NW 23rd Avenue in Nob Hill. (Or "Trendy Third" as the natives call it.)

Natalie is coming over, yay!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

I jerked at the knock on the door, but then relaxed as I checked through the peephole. Red hair bobbed up and down on the other side.

"So glad you could come over," I said brightly as I opened the door. Natalie was carrying a garment bag over one shoulder and her purse on the other while juggling a pink umbrella in her hand. So, umbrellas did exist in Portland after all.

"Thanks for inviting me. With this rain, I was just going to spend the night on the couch and watch some cheesy horror flicks with my cat, Delilah." She walked in, setting the dripping wet umbrella down near my coat rack.

"What do you have there?" I asked.

"Oh, this?" She lifted the bag up as a big grin spread across her face. "It's my dress for the gala on Tuesday. I wanted you to see it. Lydia was donating some of her old dresses and said I could pick out a couple before she took them to the dry cleaners and called Goodwill."

Natalie removed the covering to reveal a black satin strapless dress, with a white silk band at the neckline, and a subtle train.

"Wow, that's beautiful," I awed.

"Isn't it? It's a freakin' Armani Privé gown," she boasted. "Penolope Cruz wore an Armani Privé on the red carpet last year."

I was completely ignorant when it came to high-end fashion, so I nodded like that meant something big.

"You're going to look stunning, for sure," I said with a big smile. Natalie squealed as she held the dress up to her torso. "I'm gonna have to get it cleaned and altered this weekend, but it's so worth it." She was at least five inches shorter than Lydia, so the dress hung on the ground. But even with the money for the alterations, a free dress was a free dress. Natalie put her prize back in its bag and laid it on my chair. "So, do you have a dress yet?" She looked at me with her blue eyes. Blue eyes?

"Umm, no not yet… but… Aren't your eyes usually hazel?" I asked tilting my head slightly.

"You noticed, good!" she beamed. "I'm trying out different colors. These are the same shade as Lydia's. She referred me to her optometrist." Did you know that statistically women with blue eyes get checked out more often than women with other color eyes?"

"I wasn't aware there were studies on that," I replied. I had to hold back a laugh. "I'd hope you didn't want to change your eye color over something like that."

"Well, I thought it might be something to try on my own. See if it makes a difference."

"If a guy snubs you because of your hazel eyes, then that's really not the kind of guy you need to be going out with."

"Oh, I know. It's just something I'm trying on… Like a new pair of shoes."

"Okay, like a new pair of shoes," I chuckled. "So what movie did you bring?" I hesitantly asked. Oh, let's hope she hadn't brought a horror movie to watch. My nerves wouldn't be able to take it.

She pulled out a DVD from her purse. "_Bridget Jones's_ _Diary_," she beamed as she held up the cover for me to see. "I just love it. It's the ultimate chick flick for a girl's night."

I nodded, as I breathed out a relieved sigh. I'd seen it a time or two on cable. "I'll make us some popcorn."

Most people would probably have turned up their noses to merlot and popcorn, but Natalie and I made it work. We both sat on the couch, watching poor Bridget count cigarettes and calories as she figured out her love life.

"I don't know why she's even interested in Colin Firth when she could have Hugh Grant," Natalie said as she scrunched her nose.

"Colin Firth has a lot of charm," I replied. I was a sucker for a guy in a crazy sweater. "Besides, Hugh Grant is kind of a prick in this movie."

Natalie nodded. "True. But he is handsome though."

We talked most of the night while watching the movie. She told me about growing up in Seattle. She'd moved here to go to the University of Oregon on a volleyball scholarship. Who knew there were scholarships for that type of thing?

"Have you ever played before?" Natalie asked.

"No, I was more of a runner than a ball player."

"Oh, it's a lot of fun. And not to brag, but even though I'm short, I can jump incredibly high. That's my advantage. I'd spike the ball better than most of the taller girls on my team. You know, there's a group I play with. Maybe you could try it sometime."

"I don't think I'd be very good."

"It's a great way to meet people and we play co-ed, so the guys there are just… Oh, sorry. I forgot you're not on the prowl," she giggled.

I grinned at her. "No, my prowling days are over."

Natalie went on to tell me she'd majored in Communications in college, and she was still trying to find a niche for her degree. For now she worked as a copy clerk for _The Oregonian_ newspaper. She had a second job as a waitress at the Café Mango in Goose Hollow, which she loved.

"So many interesting people pass through there. The conversations are endless," she grinned. "You oughta come out some night. I could get you a discount."

"I'll keep that in mind," I smiled at her.

The thunder outside crashed loudly and I shrieked, spilling my popcorn.

Natalie laughed. "Gosh, calm down, it's just the weather."

"Sorry, I've just been on edge lately." That was an understatement. I took a sip of wine.

While Bridget was making blue soup in her kitchen, there was a loud bang that came from mine. I jumped forward in my seat.

"Did you hear that?" I asked Natalie.

"Yeah, but it's probably just an animal or something."

"No, there's protection for that," I replied. Monroe had doused my fence for that reason. Oh, but it was raining. Maybe that had washed away. The bang happened again and my heart leapt.

"Protection? Like one of those sonic device things?"

"More like a spray," I replied. That was as close to describing it as I wanted to share.

"You want me to go check it out?" Natalie offered.

"Oh, no," I replied quickly, dusting the stray popcorn from my jeans. If it _was_ something, I didn't want my new human friend getting hurt. I stood slowly and went to my wall in the hallway, removing my Louisville Slugger bat.

"What are you going to do with that?" Natalie asked.

"Hopefully nothing." I pursed my lips holding in my breath. I encouraged the practiced calm to flow while I walked slowly to my kitchen. As I edged toward the window under the sink, a shadow passed by. I took in a short gasp. It was someone. Oh, God. I reached for my cell phone and scrolled through until I was at Nick's number. I couldn't call Nick. That was stupid. What would I tell him? I shook my head. I could call Monroe, but…

The Shadow passed by my kitchen window again and my heart stopped in my chest. Oh, hell. Someone was definitely out there. Scythes… Reapers… They were all I thought about. I gripped my Louisville Slugger with one hand while I held my phone with the other. Even if I called Monroe, he wouldn't get here in time. I put the cell back in my pocket. I had my bat. I could knock whoever… or whatever out much quicker. Another bang outside. My skin prickled up.

"You okay in there?" Natalie called out.

"Yeah…" I absentmindedly said.

I moved to the back door. In horror movies, did the girl ever just open the door and go out there? I couldn't recall. Thank goodness I wasn't wearing a negligee and heels. Regardless, I wasn't going to hide in here and wait for someone to burst through. No, I'd just charge out there and swing.

I opened the door slowly, darting my eyes for any sign of the Shadow. The rain distorted my vision. A flash of forked lightning lit up the sky followed by a loud clap of thunder and I stifled another shriek.

The noise happened again near my fence. I crept out cautiously. Rapid, shallow breaths came out and I steadied my breathing. I was too reckless to turn around and cower in my house. If there was someone out here, then they were going to feel the wrath of the Louisville Slugger right on their noggin.

The torrential rain pounded against my head and poured down my back in pools as I moved out on the patio. I wiped my face with my sleeve. Carefully slinking down the back steps, I silently crept around the side of my house, gripping my bat tightly.

I gradually moved toward the noise, my bat ready for whatever. As I edged around the corner, the Shadow bobbed near the fence. Holy crap, it was close. It was too dark to see, and with the rain I could barely maneuver around the stones near my flower bed. In spite of the obstacles, I moved toward the Shadow, poised my bat, and let my recklessness lead the way. It had done a good job before. The Shadow moved… it was definitely someone. Oh, God. I swung hard, making contact with a loud whack.

"Shit!" it growled. I tried to swing again, but the Shadow grabbed my bat, jerking me forward as I held on. Red eyes glowed harshly at me.

"Dude, what the fuck are you doing?" the Shadow yelled and moved out closer into the light from my kitchen window.

Holy hell, I'd just hit Monroe! I shuffled back a step. He let go of my Louisville Slugger and clutched his shoulder where I'd struck him.

"Monroe? Why are you out here?" I squeaked out.

"Trying to mark the area again. It's raining, so… Well, that kinda erases what I did last night."

"So, you just come by and make noises in my backyard?"

"So, you just come out and swing?" He held his shoulder again, emitting another growl.

"Well, I heard a noise then I saw something outside. So, yeah, I'm going to beat the shit out of whatever is outside."

"You were supposed to call me if you heard something."

"Why didn't you call me if you were coming over?"

"I didn't think about it. I figured I'd be in and out. I wasn't expecting to be mistaken for a baseball."

"I wish you would've knocked when you got here." I twisted the bat in my hands.

"Umm, your friend was inside. Natalie, right?"

"How did you know that?"

"I heard you two talking."

"Right… the hearing thing," I replied. How could I forget that?

"So, I couldn't just come in. It would be kinda hard to explain that I needed to go outside and…"

"Okay, okay," I cut him off. "I understand." I reached over to check on him. "Is your shoulder all right?"

"It'll be fine," he replied quickly. "You sure have a mean swing."

"Well, good," I said. "Not that it hit you, though." I rubbed his shoulder.

"Ooh!" he winced and flinched.

I shook my head as we stood in the rain. "I'm really sorry, Monroe. Come inside, so I can put some ice on that."

"Well, maybe I shouldn't since your friend is in there."

"No, it's fine. Let me look it over. I really didn't mean to hurt you."

He sniffed the air. "I didn't realize your friend was Wesen," he said. "And is she chewing strawberry gum?"

"Wesen? No, uhh… She's human," I stammered as I looked to the house, then back. "I don't know. She could be?" Natalie had never showed any Wesen signs and she'd had a few emotional episodes where it would've come out. The downfall to my ability was I only knew someone was Wesen if they had a woge. No woge? Then they looked as human as anyone else.

Monroe sniffed the air again. "No, I'm catching something and it's definitely coming from your gal pal in there. Or it may be a raccoon outside." He moved his head around the backyard area. "This rain makes it hard to tell. It messes with my nose, you know? Otherwise, I might have caught wind of you before you started swinging. But I definitely smell strawberry gum." Monroe made a sour face. "I don't know how anyone can handle artificial strawberry flavors."

"But you think she might be… Wesen? But you've met her a couple times now. Wouldn't you have picked it up before?"

"I don't go around sniffing everyone I meet. That's rude."

I nodded and held back a chuckle. "At least come in and dry off. You're soaked to the skin and it's freezing out here." I leaned into his wet, brown sweater. He growled again, but this wasn't a growl of pain. His arms pulled me in close.

"You know, I should probably just go." I raised my head as his face morphed. He pushed it back. Rain dripped down his bearded chin.

I backed up then asked, "So, not sitting well? Even with the overcast sky?"

"Doesn't matter," he said with a snarl as he let his arms fall to his sides. "Last full moon of the season. Too bad it's raining though, or I might be doing something else since I'm here. Not that the rain would be a real issue for me, but for you it might be."

"What do you mean?" I asked blankly. He wasn't making sense.

"Never mind… My mind is elsewhere right now." He looked me over as the red in his eyes changed to a shade of lust.

"You sure you gotta go?" I'd missed him like this. But, I was really worried about that shoulder, too.

"Yeah, I did what I came to do." He looked down at me with red eyes fierce, hungry even. I shivered partly from the rain, but partly from that stare. Monroe closed his eyes and shook himself. When he opened them again, they were back to brown.

"I'm glad it was you out here and not something else."

"Well, if it was something else, that bat isn't going to stop it. It'll just piss it off." He shook his head, grasping his shoulder. "So, can you please just call me instead of taking matters into your own hands, Dizzy Dean?"

I huffed out a sigh. "Okay. But will you promise to call me if you're going to be doing things in my backyard?"

"Yeah, I'm not about to get pulverized again, I can assure you."

I moved forward to hug him, but he had another woge and I halted. This time it was full on. He twisted his body, pushing it back.

"Sorry, I can't help it right now," Monroe gasped, sounding out of breath. "I really need to get out of here. He shook himself and the rain splattered from his hair. "Keep your phone on and call me tomorrow," he said and pointed to my house. "And get inside before you catch a cold or something."

More thunder lowly rumbled like a deep growl in the night. I nodded and fought the urge to kiss him. He didn't seem like he was in a kissing mood right now.

Hoisting my bat over my shoulder, I walked back into the house. Natalie was in my kitchen with her eyes staring me up and down. Pink gum hung loose in her mouth as she gaped at my appearance.

"Where did you go? Gosh, you're drenched," she commented as a puddle of water accumulated below my feet on the black, tiled floor.

"I went to check on the noise I heard," I replied while walking forward and grabbing a kitchen towel from the drawer, running it over my hair. It really didn't help much since I was soaked from head to toe.

"So, was it an animal?"

"Yeah, just an animal," I replied while biting back a sheepish grin.

Once I was dry, Natalie and I finished our movie. I was distracted through most of it, thinking about Monroe. He came out in the rain during a full moon to protect me… and I hit him with a bat. Ugh. I was a horrible girlfriend. I glanced over at Natalie. Was she Wesen and I didn't know? The fiery redhead had flared her temper a few times, but there had never been a hint of a woge. But I'd run across some Wesen that had a firm control on that. Maybe she was good at keeping that part of herself under wraps.

"Okay, maybe Colin Firth wouldn't be so bad," said Natalie startling me out of my thoughts as I glanced up to Bridget and Mark Darcy kissing in the snow.

"There ought to be more Mark Darcys in the world," I said with a sigh.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Natalie had moved on from Hugh and Colin and was discussing the newest, crazy dating website she'd signed up for. She showed me her profile, asking my opinion of what she'd written. Since she was asking for advice, I helped her tweak her wording on interests and what she was looking for. She wanted a guy who was smart, that made her laugh, who enjoyed movies and TV, and who wanted to settle down. We mellowed it out so it didn't sound too needy. She seemed pleased with the re-writes.

While pulling up some of the responses she'd received, she got excited about one interesting prospect.

"See, this guy is just perfect." She pointed out a sexy photo of some stud muffin named TomCat69. I held back a laugh. Such a poetic name.

She scrolled down and clicked on his likes. "He enjoys candlelit dinners, long walks, and he's looking for a long-term commitment."

"Yeah, and I think that photo is from a magazine." I moved my finger over the far edge where the bozo hadn't cropped it completely. A few words were still visible. I pulled up Google, using the words I could make out and found the article complete with the same picture.

Natalie scoffed. "Oh, wow. That's just… Why would someone lie like that?"

"The world is full of deceit," I replied patting her on the shoulder. She looked deflated and let out a sigh.

"There's gotta be a better way to meet someone," she moaned as her head fell back onto my couch. I watched for a hint of Wesen. Nothing. No changing eyes or tufts of hair. Either Monroe was wrong, or she was excellent at control.

"You're a wonderful, beautiful woman. You'll meet someone equally fantastic, I'm sure. Just don't fret over it. Sometimes the right person comes along when you aren't looking." Monroe sure had worked out that way.

"But I'm always looking," Natalie bleakly replied.

"Then maybe that's the problem. Stop looking and let the universe do its thing."

"I think the universe gets a kick out of my despair."

I laughed then said, "Nah, you're just trying too hard."

It was getting late and Natalie and I both had to work in the morning. As she was turning to go, she dropped her purse, spilling the contents over my carpet.

"Dammit, I'm sorry," she said, bending down to pick things up.

"Here, let me help you," I offered, putting back her lipstick, contact lens case, and a whole pack of condoms.

Natalie blushed a beet red. "Umm, I like to be prepared in case."

I held back making a face, keeping my face smooth and nonjudgmental. "Better safe than sorry," I said.

Once her purse was back in order she headed for the door.

"Thanks again for the girl's night. We really should do this again. Or maybe go out shopping. The Saturday Market just opened up for the season. Oh, you haven't seen that yet since you just moved here. I oughta take you there some weekend."

I smiled at her. "Yeah, I'd like that." I forced my eyes away from her face. I was staring, I just knew it. If she was Wesen she was going to pick up on me gawking at her like a… Well like Nick Burkhardt would. "Have a safe trip home with all this rain."

"Oh, I will. Goodnight, Renée."

As I closed the door I was back to being alone again. I donned my PJs once more, made some chamomile tea, and called it a night.

* * *

A/N: Poor Monroe!

I wonder if there's anyone out there that might be a good fit for Natalie.. Hmm... LOL! Maybe later, right?


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Monroe didn't answer his phone the next morning. I left him a voicemail that I was sorry again and I would call him on lunch. Work dragged on by and I was running on a few hours of sleep. Every little sound outside had me up last night. Between that and dreams of beating Reapers with baseball bats, I'd barely kept my eyes closed.

My itinerary was jam-packed for a Friday; three trainings were scheduled in one day before noon. Fortunately, that caught me up for last week. I was running on sheer willpower through each PowerPoint. For lunch I snuck over to Starbucks to recharge my batteries, since I had a meeting about the bank merger at two. Triple espresso to the rescue.

I braved my fears and picked up a Veggie Guacamole sandwich at Quizno's, then sat at Holiday Park on a bench under one of the canopies. It was warm and dry out considering the storm last night. There was even a peek of the sun from behind the clouds. Laughter of toddlers and dogs barking rang out from the park. A few couples were taking in a picnic in one of the sunny spots. It had to be a rarity for the natives to get a nice day. Spring was less than two weeks away. Spring was going to be so much better.

My eyes kept watch for anything out of the ordinary. I was guarded, but I needed to sit outside and renew myself. Reapers couldn't keep me terrified of doing the things I enjoyed. So there I sat, exposed to the world with my veggie sandwich and espresso. I pulled out my cell and called Monroe again. At least having him on the phone while I sat here would be reassuring.

"Hey, Renée," he said in a hurried voice.

"How's that shoulder?" I asked.

"Well, there's a good size bruise, but I'll survive. The Mariners may need to recruit you this season," he chuckled. Thank goodness he was making jokes about it.

"Oh, Monroe, I'm really sorry…"

"Don't be," he cut me off. "You were protecting yourself. I'll heal."

"Well, there were no issues last night, so whatever you did must have worked."

"Good, glad to hear it. Renée, I hate to cut our conversation short, but right now I'm, like, deep in the middle of a Bulova skeleton clock and this movement is giving me fits. It's an intricate process."

"No, that's fine. I just wanted to check on you."

"Come over tonight and you can kiss it better."

"That I can do," I said with a grin.

After we hung up, I was back to people watching as I munched on my sandwich. Well, people scrutinizing was more like it. I shook off my fears, taking in the practiced calm. What did I expect… that Mr. Reaper would come out of the park and chop my head off right in the middle of the afternoon? If that were the case, the Pinstripe Duo would've just done me in at the funeral. No, they were more organized than that. I would be fine out here in public.

The outside was what I needed today. Being a hermit was no way to be. For the next hour as people passed me by, no person or Wesen stopped to try to murder me. Apparently I didn't have a big target plastered on my back today. Granted, I wasn't completely safe, but for now I was free to go outside without dying.

I made it back to work in time to grab my steno pad and laptop for the meeting. Most of the first hour was talk of things that had nothing to do with my department, but I listened intently regardless.

"As we work toward this acquisition, we'll have over two-hundred employees that will need to go through training," my boss said and my ears perked up. This was where I came in. "We'd like a quick process, so we'll be dividing the classes into four groups. Renée Davenport and Daniel Wilder will be dual training these groups in late June." My eyes widened. Both of us? This was supposed to be my project. I turned quickly to Daniel, who was already smiling big my way. Crap! I'd rather walk on hot coals than have to spend one minute working with Daniel. I kept my face smooth and held in my groan.

The rest of the meeting was a blur as I spent my time writing down every reason why I should be doing this training solo. I needed to talk with my boss.

As the meeting ended, Daniel caught me before I could leave.

"Looks like you and I are going to be spending some time together after all." His boy next door smile permeated off his face.

"Professionally, yes," I replied. Unless I could convince the boss I was more than capable of doing this on my own, which was where I was headed as soon as Tall, Dark, and Arrogant would let me pass.

"This merger is an important one," he said, "so, we may need to schedule some dinner appointments to work on the presentations."

"There's plenty of time to prepare at work during business hours," I assured him.

His lips curved up into a smirk. "We'll see about that."

Instead of giving him a snarky reply, I pushed past Daniel and headed directly to my boss's office.

"Renée," he said with a smile as I stepped in. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, it's about the merger trainings," I said. "I thought it was decided I would be facilitating." My boss and I had discussed the acquisition the Tuesday I'd returned to work and he had shared the good news of my new project. That was only a few days ago. What the hell had made him change his mind so quickly?

"It's a big task," said my boss. "Have a seat."

I sat, but only on the edge as I kept my back straight. "This is something I'm more than capable of handling on my own." I began my speech as I reviewed my notes. I had some excellent points to stress.

"Renée, I realize you're capable, but with Daniel we can get though it so much faster," he said before I could move to my next point. "And he came to me specifically asking if he could help you with this project." That stopped my train of thought to a dead halt. He'd asked to help me?

"Sir, with all due respect, I've already done the preliminary work on this acquisition, and I feel it would…"

"Renée, you're an excellent employee, but having both you and Daniel together will make a dynamic team. We need that kind of positive teamwork to show our new employees what our establishment has to offer." It was as much as if he'd said, 'Shut up, Renée. Daniel is working with you, so get over it.'

I nodded slowly as I stood, forgoing my other points. "Okay, sir. You know best."

"I'm expecting a great merger, and you two are the foundation." He clicked his tongue twice as he gave me a thumbs up and a wink. Did people really give thumbs up anymore? Apparently my boss did. I gave him an awkward thumbs up in return and feigned a smile.

As I exited, I had a dip in my overall… well, everything. I walked slowly down the hall and back to my office, slumping down into my chair. My presentation for the merger was still up on my screen. It was fine. Daniel could share in my success. The work I'd done so far wouldn't go to waste. I'd make the best of this.

The clock on my computer gave me hope since there was only a half of an hour left of my day. I didn't have any work to do this weekend, and I was planning on kissing certain parts of my boyfriend's body in just a short amount of time. Ah, silver linings.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for all the comments! I'm posting a few more chapters today!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Monroe was on top of me, and I was feeling incredible. I kissed him as our bodies moved in time with each other. My fingers gripped around his arms, being careful to avoid his shoulder, which was dark purple from my assault last night. Even gentle kisses there had him wincing. I lingered on his mouth instead.

Monroe pulled away from my lips. "Nick," he said, breathlessly.

"Uh, not a turn on, Monroe," I replied with a scowl.

"Huh? No… Nick is outside!" he exclaimed. The knock on the door downstairs confirmed what Monroe had said.

"Well, crap," I grumbled, getting up from the bed and rummaging for my clothes, which were strewn across Monroe's bedroom.

Monroe quickly threw on a shirt and jeans and went downstairs. I was right behind him. He opened the door to Nick Burkhardt, complete with his toothy grin in tow. Nick waltzed in like he owned the place, patting Monroe's shoulder as he walked past. Monroe winced again and opened his mouth to speak, but he just shook his head and remained silent.

"Hope I wasn't interrupting anything," Nick said casually, but his eyes said something completely different as he caught me hovering on the stairs. That toothy grin of his was aimed at me now, and I smoothed out my hair since it was quite obvious what we had been doing.

I slowly walked the rest of the way down the stairs and forced a silent smile.

"You know, most people call first," Monroe muttered, shutting the front door as Nick sat down on the gold couch in the living room. Thank goodness he'd said something, because I was about to say the same thing. Well, probably something a little less tactful. Monroe looked at me and rolled his eyes as I let out a quick sigh. "So, what can I do for you tonight, Nick?" he asked, settling in on his brown leather swivel chair.

I continued to hover in the living room. Was I allowed to stick around? Monroe motioned for me to sit on the couch near Nick. Well, I wasn't being shooed away, that was good. I quickly got comfortable on the couch, curling my leg under me.

Nick turned in my direction and gave me a smile. His smile faded into a more serious look as he turned back toward Monroe. "I need to talk to you about what I saw at a place called Club Troup Chaud this evening," he said. "Ever heard of it?"

"Oh, yeah." Monroe nodded. "I used to go there all the…" He paused as his eyes widened slightly. "Well, uhh… I've been there once or twice, but, yeah, I know that place." Monroe was fumbling his words and fidgeting in his seat. Must be a strip club from the way he was acting. I just gave him a smile as he sheepishly looked my way.

Nick went into the case he was working on that involved the father of a fire dancer named Ariel. Maybe she was a Wesen mermaid. "She called herself a…"

"Daemonfeuer," Monroe completed his sentence.

"How'd you know who I was talking about if you've only been a time or two?" Nick questioned with a knowing grin.

"I… Uhh… Well, the one time I went up there I saw one, and I…" Monroe gave Nick a 'can you just shut up' look. It was cute how he was trying to pretend he wasn't male. "So, anyway... Daemonfeuers… like in dragons," he said, bringing the subject back to Wesen.

"And she works at Club Troup Chaud?" I laughed. "That's French for 'very hot.' Sounds like an ideal place for a dragon, huh?"

"Irony comes in all forms," Monroe replied.

Nick's eyes grew wide. "So, are we talking like real dragons?"

"Not exactly. They come from a dragon-like lineage, from what I know. They're kind of a throwback to the days of yore. You know, knights in shining armor and all that chivalrous stuff," Monroe gestured from what I could only conclude was a knight with a sword. He would be great at charades.

"But aren't dragons supposed to be mythological?" Nick asked, running a hand through his dark bangs.

I worked hard on my practiced calm not to smile at his innocence. But I couldn't act too well-versed. I only knew about them from Chloe's notebooks. They weren't commonplace, so that Nick was dealing with not only one, but two, was rare indeed.

"Dragons are myths, Daemonfeuers aren't," Monroe simply replied.

"So, can they breathe fire?" Nick asked with curiosity in his voice.

Monroe went over his version of how Daemonfeuers made and breathed fire, and Nick was all ears. I knew most of what Monroe said, but I leaned in anyway. It was hard not to when Monroe talked. He was engaging, and those hand gestures of his always made me smile. Besides, who else could describe dragons breathing fire like a ketonic vomit?

"So, what did her father do?" Monroe asked after he was finished with his lesson in Daemonfeuerology.

"He may have burned a couple of guys to death," Nick replied. Monroe grimaced and so did I.

Suddenly, Monroe's head jerked up. He leaned forward like he'd heard something and sniffed the air. "Did you bring one with ya?" he asked Nick as they both hurried to the door.

I got up and moved toward the window as a woman ran to a car and sped off.

Nick scowled as the car flew down the road. "Dammit, she must have followed me."

"Dude, you need to leave your work at work when you come over here," Monroe warned. He walked over and protectively put his arm around me. "Especially the ones that are, you know, combustible." Too bad I hadn't gotten a better look at her.

"Well, I kinda followed her to her house first," Nick said, sitting back down on the couch. Both Monroe and I sat down as well. Nick told us about Ariel's backyard experience.

"So, you're telling me she was into you?" Monroe scoffed.

"Yeah, apparently she's into bad-ass Grimms," he replied while shaking his head. Nick told us about having to explain to Juliette the situation after Ariel had answered his phone. "Try to explain to your girlfriend that you're in the backyard of an exotic fire dancer." He sighed. "She wasn't too thrilled."

"Yikes. I'm sure that was awkward," I said, and a grin passed my lips. "And Juliette let you back out of the house tonight?"

Nick didn't reply, but shot me a scowl instead.

"Flowers, dude," Monroe added. "Bring home flowers."

Nick stood as he said, "I'm going to go before anything else happens."

"Actually I kinda need to talk to you about something." Monroe looked over at me. "Can you give us a second, Hun?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll be upstairs." I patted Nick on the arm briefly as I got up to leave. "Hope things go okay, Nick. Be safe."

While Monroe and Nick talked, I sat on the edge of the bed upstairs with the door open. I didn't have Blutbad hearing, but if I closed my eyes I could heighten my other senses. Parts of the conversation reached my ears. Something about a Grimm in Antwerp and a run in with Reapers. The words 'dead' and 'decapitated' were clearly audible. All I could think about was that scythe, and I shuddered. That was enough eavesdropping for one night.

I lay down on the bed. No wonder Monroe had been acting so upset lately. But he could've just told me, right? I had plans on talking to Nick tomorrow. I was close to doing it tonight, but the Daemonfeuer had caught us all off guard. Maybe once Nick knew the truth it would ease Monroe's mind.

The front door closed and Monroe came upstairs shortly after. "So where were we?" he asked with a grin as he leaned down to kiss me, but then he stopped short. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I replied, leaning in to kiss him before he asked any more questions.

He frowned. "You heard, huh?"

I looked up into his deep brown eyes. "Your voice carries."

"Yeah, right." He smirked and kissed my forehead. "Hun, you've been through too much lately to have to worry about what my Cousin Naydler found out." He placed his hand against my cheek.

You could've just told me," I said while sitting up. "Besides, that's in Belgium. It doesn't mean they're here."

"Doesn't mean they aren't." He openly shook his head at me. "But you don't need to worry. I won't let anything happen to you."

"So, does your cousin know about Nick?" I asked.

"When Nick first started coming over, I didn't really have anyone to talk to. And, well, a Grimm is something just you don't see every day, you know? Naydler lives far enough away that I figured it was safe to tell him, you know, just in case."

"Just in case the Grimm tried to kill you?"

Monroe laughed. "Yeah, well, that crossed my mind."

* * *

A/N: Back to story mode. So Monroe had no reason to be at Troup Chaud, but Nick still found a way to learn about ketonic vomit. LOL!

One more chapter today!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The weekend had arrived, and I'd put it off long enough. My nerves were getting the best of me as I drove to Nick Burkhardt's house on Southwest Prescott Street. I'd just knock on the door, ask if him we could talk, maybe go for a drive, and I'd come clean. Monroe and I had already eaten dinner, so perhaps Nick and I could grab dessert afterwards. Nothing helped to confess that you might be a Grimm like dessert, right? That was as close to a plan as I had. Spontaneity in this situation was best. I was going to chicken out otherwise.

Monroe had let me leave since I'd insisted I had errands to run that couldn't wait. He hadn't probed for the details and I'd promised I would return within an hour. Ample time to talk to Nick and get back to Monroe's. Plus, it would give me an out in case this conversation became too much to handle.

It was a little after six by the clock in my car. What if I interrupted something? I should've called first. No, then Nick would've wanted to know why I needed to talk to him. I shook my head. This kind of discussion was best to do in person. I hadn't told Nick while I was in Louisville because a phone call just seemed wrong to break this kind of news. Besides, he didn't seem to think it was important to call ahead before going to Monroe's last night. Hopefully that went both ways.

I parked my Malibu behind Nick's old Toyota Land Cruiser. His car was here, so he was probably home. To be honest, I was wishing that it wouldn't be. Since it was, I turned off my ignition and slipped my cell phone into my jeans pocket as I climbed out of the car. Taking in a few deep breaths, I walked up to the porch of the large Victorian house on the corner of the street. My stomach lurched as I hit the last step. But it wasn't due to my nerves. Something wasn't right. I closed my eyes. Faint noises of commotion were coming from inside the house. My reckless woge shot out and I tried the doorknob. The door was open. That in itself set off alarms in my brain, but I was in no position to worry about it now.

My reckless woge took over and I was inside and up the stairs in an instant, following the sounds. There were flames coming from the room to the left. The house was on fire! What if Nick was trapped? I ran to the door, my eyes fixed on the scene in front of me as flames filled the room. They were coming from a scaled creature that was standing by the bed. The Daemonfeuer! Nick was on the ground as the Daemonfeuer tried to roast him like a marshmallow. Her back was turned away from me and instinctively I pushed her, knocking her off balance as Nick dodged the fire.

Miss Fireball retracted as she staggered backward onto the bed. Before I could do anything further she steadied herself and spun around quickly, spraying out the acetone vapors from her mouth in my direction. The fumes caught in my throat as it burned through my nose. I suppressed a cough, holding my sleeve to my nose. I had one eye on her and another on Nick, who was still on the ground. Crap, was he all right? I wasn't doing a good job of keeping an eye on Miss Fireball and she lunged forward right as her woge occurred, catching me completely off guard. Seemingly my reaction did the same to her and she halted before she lit me up in flames. This was my first Daemonfeuer and she knew immediately I saw her for what she was. Suddenly she grabbed me.

"Two Grimms in one week." She sounded almost impressed as she gripped me tightly with one arm. She turned us to face Nick, who was on his feet and watching with eyes wide. Miss Fireball was strong and all my struggling was pretty futile, although I tried hard to break free.

"Let her go, Ariel," Nick yelled out as he looked at me. Etched on his face was the shock of processing what was just revealed.

"No, I think daddy will be pleased to have her." She stated it like I was a shiny, new toy. Nick tried moving toward her, but she held me tighter... if that was even possible. Her grip was like a metal vise around my ribcage, and I was struggling to breathe.

"He won't be pleased if you're dead, Daemonfeuer," I said. My voice squeaked out the words, which completely ruined any menacing effect they might have had. Miss Fireball merely laughed.

Nick remained still as a statue. "Ariel…"

"Don't try it or I'll kill her right here."

My recklessness was screaming at me to do something, anything, but I was completely at a loss. I just helplessly watched Nick and hoped for a miracle.

"Nick, I'm sorry," I choked out as Miss Fireball swiftly dragged me down the stairs and out Nick's front door.

Once outside she thrust me up against a car, knocking the wind out of me. My face pressed firmly on the glass. On the other side was a woman slumped over in the back seat. Red hair obscured her face. Who was she? No time to figure it out now. Using both hands, I pushed myself off the car and turned to face Miss Fireball. She was back to full woge, her amphibian-like eyes glaring at me.

"You're not going to get away with…"

Her fist shot up and connected with my skull before I could say anything more. Stars then blackness were the last things I recalled.

* * *

A/N: Well, Renée wanted to keep her reveal to Nick low-key. Oops?

And I shall leave you with this cliff hanger until tomorrow.

Stay Tuned! (;


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Pain. Stabbing, all consuming pain. It jolted my eyes open. They blurred as I tried to focus, but I was still seeing stars. Even moving my eyes around was agonizing. My head pounded something fierce. I shifted to reach for my head, but my wrists were bound tightly. A gag was pulled taught in my mouth. My throat was dry and raw, begging me to swallow, but I couldn't. I recalled the last few memories of Miss Fireball and what had happened at Nick's. Oh, God. She took me somewhere. I was trapped like a… Well, like a damsel in distress. Oh, the irony.

I scanned my surroundings, struggling to move my head. Where the hell was I? Lanterns and crude lighting fixtures hung from the ceiling, barely giving off enough light to see. Large, metal barrels, filled to their brims with copper pipes and tubing, were placed all over. Copper was everywhere. Larger piles were stacked along the sides of the walls. There was enough in here to mint a million pennies easily.

Slowly I looked left; the throbbing ache shot through me just from shifting my head that far. Beside me was a red-headed woman much in the same position as I was. That red hair. It was the same woman from the car. Damsel Number Two was gagged and also appeared tied down. I acknowledged her with my eyes, but I desperately wanted to say something to her. Maybe she knew where we were? Her wild eyes looked back at me like she was trying to talk through them. Unfortunately I wasn't able to decipher her silent conversation. A sharp cut was just above her left eye. Miss Fireball must've gotten a punch on her, too.

I traced the outline of the walls with my eyes. Were we in a cave? No, it was manmade like a mining shaft. A faint, garlic-like odor hung in the air. It wasn't garlic exactly, but the scent was familiar. I closed my eyes to recall. Chemistry class. The smell was acetylene. We'd used it in a few experiments because our teacher liked to blow things up on a regular basis. I drew my attention back to the present. Why did I smell that in here? Acetylene was highly flammable, and even a small amount could ignite this entire place in an instant. We had to get out of here.

I worked at my bonds. It wasn't rope. My fingers traced wire or metal. Copper more than likely, with such a vast amount already in here. There was plenty of it wrapped around my wrists. I wasn't that good of an escape artist. Harry Houdini wasn't going to help me out of this one.

"Get up," I said aloud into my gag. I pulled my legs toward me. "Get up!"

The bonds on my ankles were as tight as the ones on my wrists. Tight and immovable. I pushed forward to my knees, trying to raise myself up, but was no use. The wire was too tightly wound for that position. But even if I managed to stand I wouldn't be able to leave. I couldn't just hop on out of here...wherever here was. No, I was trapped. Bruce Springsteen sang about it, but I was feeling it. Weak and helpless, I fell back into place. My luck had finally run out, and this was it. What was I doing just running up the stairs like that? Chloe was right. I was too prideful. I heaved a sigh into my gag.

Damsel Number Two wasn't struggling. Maybe she'd already tried to get up, too. I couldn't give up. I worked on the metal, searching with my fingers for an opening or something to pry it off me. The more I frantically twisted, the further it dug into my wrists. If I kept it up, I'd wind up stabbing myself instead of getting out of here.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Time passed slowly in this dank and secluded place. I couldn't even hum a tune with my gag. All I was left with was my thoughts. Thoughts of escaping and ways out of here. I was running every scenario in my head. Most involved not being tied up, but I couldn't get past that crucial part.

Dad's words were with me again. Smarter than I knew. Smart enough to know better than to run into someone's house and up their stairs, for sure. Dammit! But what if I hadn't? Would Nick have survived? It didn't matter now. Maybe he was looking for me? Maybe he would come…

My phone rang in my pocket, startling the hell out of me. Oh, God. Monroe. I was supposed to be back by now. He was probably worried sick. Surely Nick had called Monroe. If I actually got out of this mess, I was going to have to explain myself. That was _if_ I got out. I struggled with my bonds again, contorting this way and that to try to loop my arms from behind me, struggling to work my hands under by body. I couldn't get enough leverage to pull them through, and the metal stabbed my wrists again.

"Dammit!" I growled into my gag.

Even in my most reckless moments, I'd never been tied down like this before. (I didn't count the Lowen and his rope job; that was the most pathetic knot I'd ever seen.) Sure, I'd been beaten up, thrown into trunks of cars, and chased quite a bit, but never knocked out and tied up. And I'd never felt this helpless or this hopeless. I drew in my practiced calm and tried once more to think of some way out. The girl who had escaped a Lowen and a Reaper was not going to die like this. But I had nothing. Even my cell phone was useless. The only iota of hope I had left was Nick Burkhardt. I leaned my head back slowly, closing my eyes in defeat.

The sound of voices took me out of my despondent thoughts. It was Miss Fireball again. She had an older man with her, who looked like half his face had melted off. This must be her daddy she was talking about. Oh, God.

"Aren't they perfect?" Miss Fireball asked Daddy Daemonfeuer.

He knelt down and reached for Damsel Number Two's face. She whimpered under her gag. He turned and brought his hand toward mine. His hand lightly touched my cheek, and I strained to back away.

"Who… Who comes for them?" His voice was raspy like it had been scraped through gravel. Just his presence in itself was frightening, and he hadn't even had a woge yet.

"Someone worthy of you," Miss Fireball replied with a sneer as Daddy Daemonfeuer stood. "And if he doesn't come, then that one will be just as worthy." She pointed a finger at me.

If it hadn't been for my gag I would've gulped. Worthy? Did that mean what I thought it meant? Flashbacks of the Gladiator ring came back to me. Did she expect me to fight him if Nick didn't show?

Daddy Daemonfeuer seemed satisfied at what his darling daughter had brought him. I tried to hold in my fear. It wasn't working well. He had a woge, and his face transformed into the same scaly mess as Miss Fireball's, but the male of the species was much larger and more menacing. I held back my gaze and glanced sideways at Damsel Number Two, who hadn't flinched. Thankfully this wasn't a woge she could see or the poor woman might have gone into shock.

Pushing back my fear, I glared at both of them. If only this gag was out of my mouth my own woge would've said something in response. Miss Fireball caught my eye and a smug grin etched across her face. They both walked away, leaving us to our doom.

Once they were out of sight, I strained against my bonds in a fit of rage. The pain swelled in my brain, but it was no use. I couldn't break free even with the woge boiling within me. But if I did free myself… If by some miracle I was able to get out of this, then that Daemonfeuer was going down.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

More time passed and the silence was driving me insane. I'd sung a dozen sad songs in my mental jukebox, and I'd surrendered to my fate. If Nick was going to find us, he would've by now. A noise to our right startled us both, and I turned to catch Monroe ducked down between a few barrels. I had to do a double take. Was my concussion making me see things? No, it really was him. He put a finger to his lips when Damsel Number Two panicked. My gag prevented me from calming her down.

Monroe moved past the barrels and came over quickly. "Renée, thank God you're alive!" he said in a hushed tone as he approached us. "I'm here to help," he told Damsel Number Two since she was whining under her gag.

He removed my gag and effortlessly undid my restraints from my wrists. As soon as my arms were freed, I reached for him. Monroe's mouth pressed hard onto my lips and then moved up my face.

"I'm so glad you found us!" My voice rasped out almost as badly as that of Daddy Daemonfeuer's. I finally found enough moisture to swallow, and I cleared my throat.

Monroe stroked my cheek as a tear ran down his own. "If she had… God, Renée… I don't know what I would've done if anything had happened to you." He turned to Damsel Number Two as he dabbed his eyes. "You're Juliette. We've never been introduced, but I'm a friend of Nick's." He let me go to work on her bonds.

Oh, wow. She was Nick's girlfriend. This was some real dirty work the Daemonfeuer was pulling. Juliette looked a little less alarmed at the mention of her and Nick's name. As he was about to untie our legs, Monroe paused as a clanging noise rang out in the distance. He turned sharply, letting out a low growl and put the gag back in my mouth, much to my chagrin.

"Don't move," he instructed as he ducked back behind the barrels right before Miss Fireball approached. We put our hands behind our backs. Monroe glared at her from behind the barrels. He perched like he was going to advance on her at any moment. Oh, God. Not in front of Juliette. In the dim light his eyes sparked like fire and burned into the back of her head.

Miss Fireball bent down toward Juliette, removing her gag. My reckless woge was in full force and I was ready to give her a little payback if Monroe didn't get there first.

"Time for you to scream," Miss Fireball said with a smirk.

"Time for you to scream," Juliette responded as she swung her fist. The Daemonfeuer took the punch right to the face. Wide-eyed, I looked at Juliette. I wasn't expecting _that_ at all. She gave me a half-smile in return.

Monroe came out from behind the barrels, seeming equally surprised at what he just saw. "We've got to get out of here now!" he exclaimed. We removed the bonds on our legs and rose quickly, making our way out of the tunnel. Once we were safe, Monroe hugged me tightly.

"My hero," I whispered in his ear, not wanting to let him go. Maybe I still needed a knight in a shining VW after all.

"I've got them Nick," Monroe shouted back toward the tunnel, still holding me. "We're all out!"

Monroe pulled me back and locked eyes with me. "How did you get involved in this?"

"We'll talk later, okay?" I tilted my head toward Juliette. She didn't need to hear anything else supernatural tonight.

Just then I looked past Monroe to Nick, who was running from the tunnel. The Daemonfeuer was chanting something inside that I couldn't make out.

"Nick!" Juliette cried, and a burst of flames shot out from behind him as he ran toward us, propelling him forward into Juliette's arms. Nick held her a moment, asking if she was okay.

"Yeah, I think so," she shakily replied.

Monroe draped him arm over me. "That was a little too close for comfort, man."

Nick turned to Monroe. "Thanks." The expression of gratitude on his face spoke more than that one word ever could.

Monroe nodded as I leaned into him. My head pounded, and I was shaking all over. The recklessness was long gone, and I was a tad woozy. Well, hopefully it was that and not from the bump on my head.

Nick pulled out his cell phone and stepped away. It sounded like he was calling in the incident. I caught him saying that two were dead in the fire. So, Ariel and her dad must not have made it.

Juliette turned and asked Monroe, "So, are you a detective too?"

"Uh, more like a private investigator… friend of Nick's," Monroe replied, stumbling on his words. He was such a bad liar. "I'm Monroe, by the way. This is my girlfriend, Renée." I offered a small wave as Monroe shook Juliette's hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Juliette forced a smile. "You, too."

"That was some punch back there." I gave her an approving nod.

"The opportunity was there, and I took it." She feigned another smile, holding herself with her arms tight against her soiled, cream colored coat.

Thank goodness Karma had found a way to pay back Miss Fireball, even if I hadn't been the one who got to administer the punch. I held my temple. The ache was stabbing behind my eyes and I was seeing stars again. Oh, the bruise on it must be massive.

Nick grabbed Juliette again, hugging her tightly. He looked directly at me over Juliette's shoulder. His eyes were wide and were holding more questions. He knew what I could see now. My secret was out. Ta-da!

"What happened to them?" Juliette asked Nick.

"Well, the fire began, and, uh, she wouldn't let me get her or her dad out. She said she wanted to die there. I couldn't stick around since the place was about to blow."

Juliette just nodded like all that made sense. She was a strong woman, or one who was easily convinced. I was leaning toward the former of the two.

Nick pulled me off to the side as we walked back to his car. "You and I need to have a _long_ talk," he said in a serious tone, and I nodded silently. When we reached Nick's Toyota, he directed his gaze toward another vehicle parked off to the side. "Monroe, can you drive Juliette's Subaru back to the house for us?" he asked.

"Yeah, man." Monroe gave a quick nod as we walked toward the Subaru. "I can manage." At least that would give us a moment to talk alone.

The keys were in the ignition when Monroe and I got in. I buckled up and pulled down the visor mirror. A large bluish-purple bruise on the right side of my forehead stared back at me. Blood was crusted down the side of my head and more was still oozing out from the long gash on top of the bruise. The blow Miss Fireball delivered to me was much harder than what Juliette had received by the looks of it. That scaly skin must be sharp, or maybe one of her claws got me during the hit. I really shouldn't have smiled so much about Monroe punching Jack in my backyard last month. Talk about Karmic retribution. I sure got a taste of my own medicine tonight.

With a groan, I closed the visor and turned back to Monroe, who was staring forward and breathing heavily into a sigh.

"Okay, so you wanna tell me how you wound up, you know, in Nick's bedroom with a Daemonfeuer taking you hostage?" Monroe still wasn't looking at me. He was focused forward as we started to drive. "I thought you had errands to run."

"Well, my errand was having a Grimm chat with Nick," I began, shutting my eyes and resting my head back. "But the Daemonfeuer tried to barbeque him, and it threw a wrench in my plans." I sighed, rubbing my temple. I explained the noises I'd heard and my woge taking over as I rushed inside. "Nick watched me react to her woge. She had it a few inches in front of me." I opened my eyes and turned them toward Monroe. "You guys like do that a lot, you know."

"Hey, I thought you didn't separate Wesen from everyone else," he chided. "You know, that whole 'us' versus 'them' thing?"

"I normally don't, but I'm in pain right now, and I'm separating. She doesn't deserve any unity." I pounded my fist into my leg. I imagined her face instead, and for a brief moment I was happy.

"Well, don't put _me_ in a class with her." Monroe jerked the steering wheel as he followed Nick on a left turn. "Even a normal Blutbad isn't as vindictive as she is."

"You're right. She needs to be in a class all her own." The class of Bitch was more appropriate.

"So, that explains the ton of questions I got on the drive to find you." Monroe shook his head. "Nick kept wanting to know how long I knew you were a Grimm and why I was hiding it from him. I just played dumb, but you know how he is, man. He knew I was lying."

I forced a smile through my pain. Monroe couldn't lie well if it would save his life. "I'm sure he'll have even more questions for me. He said he wants us to have a _long_talk," I grimaced, partly because of the talk, partly because I was in a lot of pain. I put my hand against my bruised forehead, trying to avoid the blood.

"Why didn't you have me go with you to tell him?" he breathed out.

"I thought it might be easier to do it alone. Apparently having you there tonight would've been the better option, though."

"Renée, I'm gonna say it again, I mean, not that you'll listen, but you gotta quit doing these things." His voice was mild considering the situation. "I'm just glad you're all right. When Nick called me and said..." His voice trailed off, and his eyes looked almost blurred under the red hue. Was he about to cry again? Oh, no.

I reached for his hand on the steering wheel, gripping it tightly. "I'm sorry I worried you," I spoke softly.

A short breath escaped his nose. "You did more than worry me."

I held on to his hand. "I'm glad you came to find me. You make it hard to stop believing in fairy tales when you're rescuing me from dragons." I pressed myself against his arm, reclining my head on his shoulder, and closing my eyes. "But thank goodness you did," I added.

Monroe forced out an awkward chuckle. "Saving damsels in distress is my thing, I guess. Two for the price of one tonight."

"Must have been a sale going on," I quipped. He chuckled again. Jokes usually cleared the air, and Monroe's arm relaxed under me. "But if it hadn't been for Nick figuring out where the Dragon's lair was, then I wouldn't have found you at all. He was the real hero tonight."

Oh," I muttered. "Well, thank goodness for both of you." I wasn't ready to thank Nick Burkhardt just yet. My head ached, and I held it as I kept my eyes closed.

"Maybe we oughta get you to an ER or something," Monroe suggested.

"Nah," I said. "I'll be fine tomorrow. Remember, I mend quickly."

"Man, I don't know. This looks worse than your neck did."

"Even after I was completely black and blue from the Jägerbars, I was fine in a few days."

"That's really fast to heal. I don't know."

"Maybe it's a Grimm thing. It'll be a question I can ask Nick. I ought to get a few of my own in, right?" I opened my eyes to Monroe shaking his head at me with a pressed smile.

"Well, I'm glad you were gonna finally tell him," he said. "I really wasn't too fond of, you know, beating around the bush all the time. I hate keeping secrets, man. I have enough of my own I have to keep on a regular basis, you know?"

"I realize that. But I'm going to need him if I'm ever going to figure out my ancestry. Chloe is working her tail off with research, but she's not going to find things like this on the web. I need to know who I am once and for all. If Nick has some secret Grimm membership book in that trailer of his, I need access to it. Telling him is the only way I can get the information I need."

"Renée, this is a good thing. I swear it will be. It'll be like a confluence of Grimm knowledge merging as one." Monroe gestured his fingers merging together on the steering wheel as he drove.

"Now he knows that I see what he sees. It's not the way I would've wanted him to find out, but I'm getting to be pretty good at dramatic reveals." I sighed heavily.

Monroe laughed in spite of himself, but then stopped for my sake. "Nick knows," he said with a sense of relief in his voice.

"No more secrets," I replied, and surprisingly, I felt good about that.

Nick pulled his Toyota off to the left and turned the car off. We parked behind them.

"Uh, you think we should go out there?" Monroe asked.

"No," I said. "I think Juliette is having a moment." The movement of their silhouettes on Nick's back window indicated that they were having an intense conversation. "I know if I were in her shoes I would be. She just got kidnapped by a psycho-chick and her creepy dad. It's not something you just brush off to the side. Heck, I'm feeling out of sorts, and I understand the whole thing."

Monroe took the opportunity to pull me toward him. I held him and let out another breath. His lips moved to my forehead right where the pain was, kissing across my temple. I leaned my head on his shoulder. The pain actually eased a bit.

As Monroe leaned back a tinge of red surrounded his mouth. Oh, crap! He kissed me hard again. A bittersweet, metallic taste coated his lips. Blood. My blood. His mouth went back to my temple.

"Monroe, don't." I pulled away. "There's blood all over it."

"It's fine," he told me, his voice an octave deeper. "It'll feel better." He leaned toward my forehead, and I gave in. I wasn't in any position to argue with him. Both hands gripped me tighter. His kiss turned into licking, and while it felt better, panic hit me hard.

I'd been bandaged up by my Wesen friends more than a time or two. Scrapes and cuts mostly. Chloe had it down pat. But this? No. I'd never been licked. Tended to like a wild animal. And the blood. What if he…? Oh, God. He was just getting a grasp on things again… to his routines.

Monroe backed off. "You can't get all scared over it." His eyes were burning red as he looked at me. Red as the ring around his mouth. He still had his fingers clutched on my arms.

I cast my eyes down. "I told you how I felt about you tasting blood."

"And you've seen one too many horror movies," Monroe sardonically replied, releasing his hands. My life was becoming a walking horror movie. He wiped his mouth quickly with his the edge of his jacket.

I glanced back up at him. "Honey, I trust you, but that just…"

"No, it's understandable," he unconvincingly said, cutting me off. "I'd never hurt you, but if it upsets you, then I won't do it."

I reached for his hand. "Thank you."

Nick started driving again. I leaned back against the head rest and closed my eyes as Monroe followed the Land Cruiser. I needed some aspirin and a bed. It felt like a freight train had hit me, but a dragon seemed worse to say.

We dropped off Juliette's car, and I handed Monroe the keys to my trusty Malibu.

"Let's stop by my place first, so I can grab my overnight bag," I said before he even had a chance to suggest I stay over. If something crazy like this happened and I wasn't sleeping in Monroe's bed afterwards, then something was wrong.

"How about we get you checked out first, okay?" asked Monroe. "Then we'll pick up your bag and head to my place."

"I told you I'll heal," I moaned in protest. "I really just want to lie down."

"You might have a concussion… or something worse." Monroe gave me a protective boyfriend face.

"Fine, we'll go," I relented. He wasn't going to back down.

"Good. Super Grimm healing or not, we gotta make sure you're okay."

* * *

A/N: So, Nick knows... And there's a long talk in Renée's future. Oh, boy! (;

I don't know about you, but I think there are Blutbad customs we just don't see on the show. I'd like to think the wolf tendencies to protect, comfort, lick, etc... would be part of their Wesen side. But hey, maybe that's just me. lol!


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

We checked in at the front desk of the Good Samaritan Hospital. My eyes crossed as I filled out at least a dozen forms. Once I was done with those, the receptionist asked us to have a seat in the waiting area. I hated hospitals. They had a certain odor; antiseptic mixed with 'get well soon' flowers and pain. Thankfully, I hadn't had to visit very many.

We settled in our seats near one of the TVs and waited. Magazines from last season, coated with germs and who knew what else were splayed across the table in front of us. The poster on the far wall had four spunky, smiling teens with the words, 'Get tested for HIV – Make healthy choices!' underneath. I just shook my head. Monroe bought me a bottle of water from one of the vending machines and I drank it down quickly. God, I'd been so parched and the cold water was like heaven on my throat.

"Thanks, I needed that." My voice sounded more like my own again.

"I can get you another one," he offered.

"No, thanks. One is good."

My phone rang and I quickly jerked it from my pocket, changing the ringer to vibrate. Nick's name was on the display. I shook my head again and put the phone away. His idea of a 'long talk' was going to start tonight it seemed. It would just have to wait.

Monroe sniffed the air as a man came in holding a blood-soaked bandage over his stomach. I gave Monroe a sideways glance as he had a short woge and then retracted.

"Sorry, it's instinctual," he muttered quietly. "Doesn't mean anything."

Oh, I'm sure it didn't. I held his hand and ignored my thoughts for a while. I needed distractions desperately.

The emergency room took as long as expected. Nick kept calling and I finally put the phone on silent.

"Him again?" Monroe asked, watching me shove my phone back in my pocket.

"Yeah."

Monroe's phone went off just then and he pulled it out, glancing at the display. "Oh man, guess it's my turn."

"Just silence it," I said. "We'll call him back once we're out of the ER."

Monroe shook his head as he pressed a few buttons. "He sure doesn't wanna waste any time."

"The detective wants answers," I merely replied.

More time passed and Monroe was getting fidgety.

"You know, whoever the numbskull is that thinks these chairs are worth waiting in, like, needs to sit in one for a few hours and rethink his decision." Monroe rubbed his lower back as he leaned forward. I moved my hand to his back, massaging out the tight knots that had formed.

It was going to be a long night. Fortunately John Cusack kept us company. We watched _Say Anything_ while in the waiting room. As Cusack stood beside his blue Chevy Malibu and held up the boom box outside, playing Peter Gabriel's 'Your Eyes,' I couldn't help but smile.

"That's probably the cheesiest, most romantic thing ever," I commented.

"Ya think so?" Monroe eyed me and chuckled lightly.

"Hey, I enjoy someone who can profess the way they feel with a song. Too bad she ignores him, though." I pointed at Ione Skye, lying in bed as the camera did another close-up of Cusack never giving up. Peter Gabriel's words fit so well with Monroe. I began humming along as the song played.

"_I see the light and the heat,  
In your eyes.  
Oh, I want to be that complete,  
In your eyes.  
I want to touch the light,  
The heat I see in your eyes…"_

The red in Monroe's eyes was a heat I thoroughly enjoyed.

"Davenport," one of the nurses called loudly, interrupting my thoughts.

"Thank goodness," I said under my breath as we both walked to the open door the nurse was standing beside.

"He can't come in with you," said a very attractive, raven-haired nurse as she kept Monroe back with her clipboard, holding it firmly against his chest.

"Why not?" I inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"No visitors in the exam room," she quickly replied. I wasn't in the mood to argue.

I turned to Monroe, looking up at him. "Will you wait for me?"

"Yeah, I suppose I don't have much of a choice, do I?" He gave the nurse a displeased look as he trudged back to the waiting room chairs.

The nurse walked me back to an exam area and pulled the curtain taut.

"Can you tell me what happened?" she asked with as much empathy as a brick wall while she cleaned my forehead.

"I banged my head into a low shelf," I replied. Yeah, that was as lame of an excuse as I could come up with. Nurse Wretched just nodded like she could care less.

She did some preliminary tests; blood pressure and temperature. She didn't have much of a bed-side manner as her cold hands went up my back with an equally cold stethoscope. I jerked upright from the chill. Angling my head, I faced Nurse Wretched, whose blue eyes were as icy as her hands.

"The doctor will see you soon," she said flatly as she walked out. Great, another wait. Their definition of 'soon' was sometime between now and never.

With one hand I pulled out my phone and accessed my Kindle. While I still loved the feel of a book in my hands, I had to admit this Kindle had come in handy lately. I thumbed through book titles. _One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest_ seemed appropriate. Waiting this long was going to make me cuckoo. As I read about Salem, Oregon's Nurse Ratched, Portland's Nurse Wretched paced the halls, finding more victims to torture.

Five chapters into the book, the doctor came in, asking more questions about my injury. Fortunately the cut wasn't deep enough to need stitches and a simple gauze bandage would suffice. Since I was knocked out, he ordered a CT scan and an MRI. Nurse Wretched returned and did some blood work. No wonder hospital bills were so high. The Band-Aid alone had to cost a hundred bucks.

After I'd been thoroughly poked and prodded, the doctor advised me that the scans looked fine and I was free to go. He recommended I get some rest and told me to take an over the counter pain reliever. Oh, Mr. Monroe was going to get a talking to. Two hours to be told the same thing I wanted to do all along. I held my head in frustration. The frustration faded. Monroe just cared about me. I had to admit it was nice to be cared about.

Nurse Wretched returned with two Dixie cups; one filled with water, the other with two Tylenol inside. I swallowed the pills and finished the water. Well, there went another hundred bucks.

I walked out and found Monroe sitting on the edge of his chair with his leg restlessly jiggling up and down. He jumped up once he saw me.

"So are you all right?" His voice sounded just as anxious as he looked.

"I'm terminal. I only have a month to live," I replied woefully which I received a scowl for. "The wise doctor thinks I need rest and Tylenol." I forced a smile. "I can't wait to see the bill for that diagnosis."

"Hey man, I couldn't take any chances," Monroe let out a breath as he spoke. He really thought something was horribly wrong from the look in his soulful brown eyes.

"Can we please go now?"

Monroe nodded. "Yes, absolutely." Thank goodness, because my body was begging to lie down. Monroe held me for a moment before we left. "I'm glad you're okay. You really know how to worry a guy."

"I can scratch Daemonfeuers off my bucket list now," I whispered in his ear. Hopefully I'd never have to see another one again.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

I had started packing an overnight bag to take to Monroe's that held the bare essentials from a toothbrush to flirty night attire and all the feminine needs a gal must have to make herself feel cute the next morning. I kept it fully stocked complete with a change of clothes at all times, so I didn't have to think when I went over to Monroe's. I'd considered making a second one to keep in the car, but even my organized brain said that was overdoing it. If I had one tonight we would've saved time driving to my house. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all.

I directed Monroe where it was located and he went inside and grabbed the bag for me.

We drove along in silence while the movie reel in my mind replayed over and over again. Helpless, so incredibly helpless. Stupid Portland. This wouldn't have happened in Louisville. I hadn't been a dainty girl growing up and I could usually hold my ground. Even in my early teens I'd always stuck up for the underdog and wouldn't tolerate someone getting bullied or worse, so back then I'd let the recklessness deal with it. Back then I didn't hesitate to take matters into my own hands, or fists as the case may be. For the most part I'd kept it all low-key. Luckily I'd dodged getting caught, and even when confronted I could talk my way out of it.

I'd been a model student; I'd mostly avoided big fights in school, focusing on the ones after hours, and a majority of those ended amicably. Chloe had a first aid kit with my name on it for the ones that didn't. I had more friends than enemies because of it. And even some of the enemies had turned out to become allies and friends in adulthood. I'd earned more respect than hatred for standing up to them.

But after college, I'd settled in with Jack, and it was harder to explain my bumps and bruises. I'd tell him I had a bike riding accident or an indoor rock climbing snafu when I'd come home all banged up. Jack must have thought I was the biggest klutz to ever walk the planet, but he didn't question my tall tales. I'd tried using my words instead of my fists, but my recklessness just didn't want to comply. Somehow I'd managed to find ways to threaten Wesen without getting hurt too badly. I was a career woman after all, and I couldn't risk jail time. But the recklessness would take me over and it would always win.

The Jägerbars, who had thrown me in their trunk, and Heath the Klaustreich, who had met with a lamp slammed against his head after trying to rape me, had been the nastiest of the bunch. But that was the little leagues compared to Wesen like the Lowen and the Reapers. I'd gotten lucky. Those could've ended up being fatal.

But tonight with the Daemonfeuer I was helpless, vulnerable, tied up, and unable to defend myself. It burned me up inside right down to my core, even hotter than the flames from Miss Fireball's mouth. If Monroe hadn't found us when he did… Well, fatality had been a pretty imminent conclusion. I owed Monroe my life in so many ways, and then I'd freaked out because he was… licking me. But that was… Oh, I didn't understand it to define it. I did trust him. I trusted him with every fiber of my being. I just didn't want to tempt the Blutbad into any more instinctual reactions. I wouldn't survive that kind of Wesen attack.

And what about my own reactions? Sure, I could pass by a squirrel or a rabbit and go about my day and not react to a woge. But these encounters were different. Never before had I needed to keep a straight face while large, menacing Wesen had a woge that close. In Louisville if I was fighting, the Wesen knew what I could see. That was usually the point. Crap, I was no better at this than Nick and that WTF face of his Monroe liked to joke about. At least the Daemonfeuers had died tonight. Thank goodness there wouldn't be more Wesen in Portland knowing about me. God, it sounded so horrible to say it like that.

"You all right?" Monroe asked and the movie reel stopped short.

I furrowed my brow. "Yeah, just thinking."

I took out my phone and turned the ringer back on. Four missed calls from Nick, and Monroe had called me three times while I was being held captive. I cleared out the history. I pulled up Nick's number and hovered over the call button. No, I'd just call him later. The long talk could just wait. I threw my phone in my shoulder bag.

Monroe rested his hand on my thigh and I laced my fingers with his. We held hands the reminder of the way to his house. God, I loved him. The Leo Love Bug resurfaced as I glanced over at my hero. Disney princesses would've traipsed around singing a song about this kind of rescue tonight. Instead, I hummed 'Dragon Days' by Alicia Keys along the way.

"_Feelin' strong for you.  
You're my knight in shining armor.  
See your face in a silver moon.  
Oh, all over the lagoon.  
And it feels like,  
Dragon days,  
And the fire's hot…"_

* * *

A/N: So, there's a little more back history on Renée. She's realizing Louisville was a bit easier than Portland.  
I found this Alicia Keys song while looking for a good song about dragons. It's one of my new favs. Check it out on youtube. You know the drill. (:


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Monroe held me once we were inside. He looked me over and reached his hand to my bandaged head.

"It's bleeding through again," he said then pursed his lips together, letting out a small whine. It was more like a dog whining than a human.

I took his hand and held it in both of mine. "I'm fine, really."

"I should've killed her," he replied with a growl. I was taken aback by that statement.

"She did that well enough on her own."

"Well, I'm glad she's dead," he snorted and shook his head. That wasn't Wieder talking. That was Blutbad.

"Why did you want to… lick me?" I asked, as the words sounded almost humorous coming out of my mouth.

"I don't want to… I mean, umm…" He looked up at me as the red reappeared in his eyes. "I want to comfort you. You're hurt and that's what we do when one of us is hurt."

"You… kiss it better?"

He chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah. It makes it feel better. It did help, right?"

"Yeah, it soothed the pain, but the blood…"

"I can control those kinds of instincts." He pulled me toward him again. "I want to take care of you. Let me do that." His voice dropped down an octave, maybe two. He was back to being authoritative… Alpha.

"May I have a shower first?" I asked instead of insisted. Monroe nodded, letting me go.

The shower was quick. I couldn't handle the sting of the water on my head. Once out, I dried my skin, examining myself in the reflection of the mirror. The wound still trickled out blood. It would heal. A few bruises were on my arms from being tossed around by Miss Fireball. My wrists were still indented from the copper wire that was around them. Thank goodness the doctor hadn't noticed those. A low flying shelf wouldn't have explained that. By tomorrow the cut would be smaller and the bruises would be more yellow than purple. Perhaps by the time I went to work on Monday I could part my hair the other way and the one on my head would be hidden entirely. I dabbed at the wound with a tissue and then dried my hair.

I wrapped a towel around me and walked out to the bedroom. Monroe was waiting for me on the bed as I stepped out. He was already naked.

"Come here," he said with that commanding tone and eyes still as red as the blood on my head. I crawled into bed beside him and he looked over the wound again.

"It needs another bandage," I said.

"I'll take care of it." He kissed me hard pulling me close again. His mouth moved all about fervently exploring my body, tossing the towel aside. His hands ran along my skin, partially rubbing, partially caressing. Fingers traced along my bruises. We moved to where he was on top of me. More kissing, nibbling then to light biting.

"You can't get hurt again," he said. "I can't let you."

"Monroe I didn't do this on purpose."

"Quiet. Just listen. I will protect you, but I can't if you don't let me in." He moved up to my forehead, his tongue ran along the pain. The panic hit again and he stopped abruptly. "Please don't be afraid of me. I can't handle that smell of fear right now."

I let the practiced calm wash over me and I relaxed. I took in a breath and looked up into my protector's eyes. They were full of kindness, but lurking beneath the soft brown was that flickering red. Back and forth it went, like the colors of a spinning roulette wheel. But where would it land? He saved my life tonight. He wasn't going to do anything that would cause me harm. Whether the words were said or not, he loved me and that trumped instincts to kill. My presumed logic slowed my racing heart.

"Better," he said.

I nodded in reply.

He moved back to my head and I closed my eyes as he kissed it better. His fingers clenched my arms holding me in place. Low growls vibrated against me while his tongue eased the pain, relaxing me. Monroe went back to my mouth. That metallic taste hit me again, but I ignored it and kept my calm. He pressed his tongue against my lips until I parted them. It intensified the taste as his tongue encircled my own.

Monroe pulled away from my mouth and moved down to my breasts, his tongue his guiding force as he delicately traced around them. He then kissed down my thighs, biting them gently. Between kissing, growling, biting, and gripping me he never tried to do anything more. This wasn't about sex, this was about… Well, I still was too ignorant to understand it. But I let him do what he felt needed to be done.

My thoughts drifted back to my helplessness. My pride had been replaced by stark humility as I sat in that tunnel, bound tight, waiting for my death to come. As I lay in bed, the tears welled behind my eyes and I squeezed them tight to hold them in. I wasn't weak.

Monroe stopped and his voice came out deep and slow as he said, "You're safe with me." I nodded, keeping my eyes shut. "Look at me, Renée."

I opened my eyes as the tears released, flowing down my cheeks. Soft kisses removed them. Soft kisses carried down my chin and to my neck.

"You're safe," he repeated close to my ear, and then he ran his tongue against my throat. Arms embraced me, comforted me. The Blutbad took pity on this poor, naked creature who had been maimed not just physically but mentally.

He pulled me close to him and I cried into his chest. We remained intertwined as one. As he held me, I felt safe… protected.

I was fully aware I could've died tonight. Fully aware I shouldn't have walked in that room without a plan. Sadly even this wouldn't stop the recklessness from coming out again. This only proved I needed to be smarter next time. And there would always be a next time. I wasn't weak.

My phone rang inside my bag and I tensed.

"I need to get that," I breathed out and he removed his arm.

I got up slowly and pulled the phone out. It was Nick again. I went back to the bed as I took the call.

"Why haven't you answered your phone?" Nick was exasperated as he spoke.

"I was in the ER," I replied steadily. My head rested on Monroe's shoulder.

"Oh..." His voice softened. "So, how are you?" he asked.

"Better," I replied. "Is Juliette okay?"

"Yeah. The bump on her head will heal soon enough, but emotionally she's... this hasn't been easy."

"Of course it hasn't," I agreed wholeheartedly.

"So, you wanna tell me how long you've been able to see… everything?" His tone had changed back to detective mode.

"All my life," I faintly replied. I put the phone on speaker.

"All your…? How is that possible?"

"That's the million dollar question, man," Monroe chimed in.

"What does that mean?"

"It means I don't know why," I replied.

"Why didn't you just tell me all this the night I first met you?" Nick said sharply.

"I didn't know you, Nick," I replied in the same tone. "It's not something I just tell people right from the get-go."

"Dude, she didn't tell me for almost a month, so technically you're right on schedule," said Monroe.

"I'm at the trailer. Can you both come over?"

"Man, not tonight," said Monroe quickly. "It's been a long day and Renée needs to rest."

"I promise we'll have a long talk soon," I added.

"Come by tomorrow morning," Nick insisted.

"Just call us tomorrow and we'll go from there, okay?"

Nick sighed into the phone. "Fine."

"Thank you for calling Monroe tonight, Nick," I said sincerely. "Without him I don't know what might have happened."

"Well, I owe him another big one for finding Juliette," he replied in a softer tone again.

"You would've done the same for me," Monroe told Nick.

"I'll call tomorrow morning," and Nick hung up.

I stared at the phone, and then thumbed through my small music selection until I came across Snow Patrol's 'Chasing Cars.' The speaker was loud enough to hear and I set the phone on the nightstand as the lyrics said everything for me. I curled back onto the bed as Monroe draped an arm over me, holding me close.

"_If I lay here,  
If I just lay here,  
Would you lie with me,  
And just forget the world?  
_

_I don't quite know  
How to say  
How I feel.  
Those three words  
Are said too much.  
They're not enough…"_

Monroe gave me a squeeze as I mouthed the last part. I loved him so much, but those words were just not enough. We stayed in bed long after the song ended. Everything else was ignored for a while.

My head began to ache again and I squirmed to find a comfortable spot.

"Are you all right?"

I held my head. "It's just hurting again."

"Let's go downstairs. I've got a great tea that'll help with the inflammation of that cut and will ease the pain."

Monroe helped me downstairs.

"Are you gonna be well enough to see Nick tomorrow?" he asked as I got comfortable on the couch.

"Yeah, by tomorrow I'll be fine." I looked up at him. "So, it looks like I'm getting a temporary membership card into the trailer."

"By the time we're done with Nick, you might get more than that."

Oh, I didn't want to think about that tonight.

* * *

A/N: Renée just can't learn her lesson, huh? Oh well... more recklessness will show up later in the story, I assure you.

Going to the trailer soon! eek!


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

I sipped on tea as we watched TV. Monroe turned it over to the nightly news. It was most of the same, a murder here and a theft there. A collection of Japanese art and artifacts were stolen this morning. They were being escorted to the Oregon Historical Society for their sister city exhibit that was supposed to open next week. The Multnomah County Sheriff, who was personally escorting the collection, made a statement about justice, finding the culprits, and the usual things typically said by authorities after a robbery. Having this one occur while authorities were there had to be a slap in the face, though.

Other news today consisted of a heroic dog that saved his owner from a burning building, a grateful woman's shelter that received an anonymous donation of $150,000, and a string of car jackings in the Alberta district.

Fred Eberhart's photo flashed on the screen. The news anchor reported his death and what police had determined was an attempted arson gone wrong. They mentioned he was the leading suspect in the previous arson case and DNA had proved he was the arsonist who had killed two people earlier this week. Ariel wasn't mentioned. No talks of dragons or damsels in distress, either. I held my head where I'd been bludgeoned. Thank goodness they both weren't around anymore. I thought back to Juliette. Now she was a surprise with that right hook. I liked her moxy.

My cell buzzed and I pulled it from my pocket. It was a text from Pete.

**Jack is still asking Q's. I'm trying my best, but he's convinced what he  
saw was real. Your BF messed w/ his head. You really should've called me when you were single, Née. ;-) I'll keep working!**

I shook my head and deleted the text. Jack just needed to forget about everything and Pete needed to stop talking about us like that, too.

"Things okay?" Monroe asked as I put down the phone.

"Jack is still questioning everything," I said with a sigh. I didn't mention the other part.

"That guy is one annoying human. Do you know how many people see something like us… like that every day? It happens more than you think." He corrected himself on separating and I smiled at him as I squeezed his hand. Maybe he was right. He usually was. "Granted most of them are in loony bins because of it… but... You know," Monroe shrugged.

My thoughts went back to Kathy Ellis, who in high school had seen one of the Kalt brothers as an Eisbar. Maybe they would have to check Jack into a padded white room, too. It might be the best solution if… I held my wounded head. No, I definitely didn't need any more bad Karma. I silently wished Jack well and that Pete would figure it out to fix this mess for me.

* * *

A/N: Jack is still making trouble in Louisville. Roh-oh.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"I don't think I can do anymore," I sighed breathlessly.

Monroe gave me a sly grin. "Oh, I think you have one more in ya."

"I've had so many already… and it's so early," I whimpered.

"Come on, Honey, just one more… for me?"

"Okay, fine. Let me know when the time changes, so I can get the seconds right," I conceded, setting forward the hour on the millionth clock in Monroe's house.

"Okay… and now!" Monroe motioned with his hand as I clicked the time in place.

"How many more clocks do you have left?"

"We haven't started on the ones in the bedroom yet," he replied. I groaned softly, but he caught it. "Normally I would've had this done last night, but… well, you know. I was kinda busy last night." He scratched at his head with a sigh.

"And you do this twice a year?"

"Like clockwork," Monroe laughed, amused at his own pun. "You see what I did there?"

I shook my head. "Oh, Mr. Monroe, we need to find you a new career."

Monroe had encouraged me to wake up early this morning and do some stretching while he did Pilates. The stretching relaxed my muscles and it had been a good suggestion overall. As I expected I was much better this morning. Even Monroe was impressed by the difference after half a day. I still looked like I'd been on the losing end of a fight, but the wound was diminished.

Monroe was in better spirits, but he hadn't felt well this morning. He blamed it on the combination of being out in the rain on Thursday night and then out in the cool night air last night. The result was a coughing, sneezing Blutbad. Nyquil didn't have a formula for that one. Regardless of his ailments, he'd been giddy all morning about Daylight Savings Time like it was a national holiday. After breakfast I'd seen more clocks today than I'd seen in a lifetime.

As I was going over to another clock, a shelf clock in the corner of the room caught my eye. It was much more ornate and rustic than mine, but it was definitely a cuckoo. The wood was walnut, I deduced, and the russet brown color was a shade lighter than Monroe's eyes. There was a large-eyed wolf carved on its base, peering up ready to pounce on two birds flying on the sides of the clock. The rest was adorned by grapes with leaves along its edges.

"This one is lovely! I never noticed you had a shelf cuckoo." I smiled at Monroe. "Who made this one?"

"Oh, you found my favorite!" Monroe grinned widely while walking over toward me. "This particular clock is straight out of the Black Forest and was carved by my great-great-great…" he paused to count on his fingers, "there might be one more great in there," he laughed, "grandfather in Freiburg back in 1862. Like yours, it's key wound with an eight day run."

"So the wolf is…"

"It's not a wolf," Monroe piped in, shaking his head. "It's a fox."

I looked at the carving again. It was hard to tell, but I guess it could be a fox. The eyes had a red hue to them, which made me think of Monroe's eyes. I just assumed it was a wolf given its owner.

"It's depicting _The Fox and the Grapes_," Monroe continued. "Aesop's fables? Don't you know that one?"

"Refresh my memory," I replied as I looked further at the carvings.

"A fox spies a bunch of delicious, ripe grapes hanging from a grape vine that's grown up a tree." Monroe pointed to the grapes on the clock. "Despite his best efforts, the fox is unable to reach them. So, you know, in the end he walks away, deciding that the grapes were probably sour anyway," he laughed. "It's where the term 'sour grapes' comes from."

"Ah, yes. I know the phrase." I nodded as I smiled at Monroe.

"You know, life's like that sometimes." Monroe stroked his bearded chin. "You blow up an idea to insurmountable proportions and, well, with the flick of fate, reality hits and those ideas vanish as you walk away, man." Monroe gestured something flittering away with his hands. "Desire is interesting that way, huh?"

"But sometimes," I countered, leaning toward Monroe as I slid my hands against his chest, "desire makes you climb the tree, no matter the odds." I fiddled with his buttons and I looked up into his eyes which were flickering red. "And then you realize that those are the best grapes you've ever tasted." I gave Monroe a flirtatious smile as I pulled him toward me, kissing him deeply.

"Maybe that fox needed some lessons from you."

"So," I paused and turned back to the clock. "Does it have the bird inside?" My clock had a faux bird nested visibly on top and it chirped every hour.

"Uh, yeah. It's a hand-carved cuckoo complete with moving wings," Monroe said, trying to direct his thoughts back to the clock. "But what makes this one unique to yours…" Monroe stopped and moved closer toward the cuckoo. "Better yet, let me just give you a listen. That would be easier," he decided. He moved the clock and slowly turned the minute hand on the front until the bird came out of its door. The sound was deeper than mine. "You hear that? It's a baritone, whereas your Emilian Wehrle cuckoo and most others are tweetys," That childlike grin of his lit up the room. The bird went back inside its door and I couldn't help but grin in return.

"I didn't realize there could be such a difference."

"Oh, yeah." Monroe went on to discuss octaves as I focused on the adornments of the clock.

"The carvings are just so detailed," I awed. "Your ancestor was a skilled craftsman."

"Yeah, my family knows their wood." He froze and furrowed his brow at that remark. "Err, you know what I mean."

I put a finger to my lips to keep from laughing. "I get the idea."

We worked for the next hour setting Monroe's clocks for Daylight Savings Time.

"My eyes are crossed and my fingers are cramping," I moaned, rubbing my fingers. Monroe took my hands in his, rubbing them gently. It felt wonderful.

"You know, most people think Benjamin Franklin invented Daylight Savings Time," Monroe idly said. "Back in 1784, he coined the phrase, 'Early to bed, early to rise,' but his methodology was to get up earlier to economize on candle usage by using the morning sunlight. Now the modern clock shifting technique of Daylight Savings Time is actually credited to New Zealand's entomologist…

"Ooh, I know this one," I interjected. "George Vernon Hudson."

"Bravo! Somebody's been doing their homework," Monroe said approvingly, still massaging my throbbing fingers. I'd Google'd it before I'd volunteered to help Monroe with his clocks. I had a feeling there would be a history lesson thrown in, so I wanted to be prepared.

"In 1895," Monroe continued, "Hudson proposed a two hour shift so he had more time to collect insects. So in a way, we have bug catching to thank for springing forward and falling back each year. It's apropos to say that it bugs ya, huh?" Monroe chuckled at his pun.

"Mr. Hudson, thank you for your creepy hobby that allows my fingers to ache in this way."

"Hey, entomology has its merits."

"You have a bug collection, don't you?"

Monroe pursed his lips. "Uh, maybe." Of course he did.

The ringing of my cell interrupted my comeback. I crossed the living room to my bag on the cedar chest. I sighed at the name on the display. Nick Burkhardt.

"Good morning," I said cheerily while biting the inside of my cheek.

"Renée," he replied. His tone wasn't in the cheery greeting mood. "Would you be able to come over? Are you feeling better after last night?"

"Yeah, I'm much better. Thanks for asking." I turned to Monroe and muted the phone. "Nick wants me to come over. Are you feeling up to that?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I've got this cold under control," Monroe replied, and then sneezed to disprove his point.

"Gesundheit," I said quickly.

"Danke," he grinned. "We'll finish the clocks later. Tell him we'll be there soon."

I pressed the mute button again. "Yeah, Monroe and I can come over. Are we going to your house or…?"

"No, the trailer."

"Trailer. Right." I nodded. "Okay, well, give us a bit to get ready and we'll be there soon."

As I hung up the phone, the reality of everything rushed through me. It was time to face the music.

* * *

A/N: I can't imagine the craziness it would be to set all those clocks for DST. Monroe's showing off his favorite clock a bit earlier than in the show, but we get a bit more info on the clock this way. (:

Next chapter is the trailer!


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

As we drove to the trailer, my stomach knotted up, and I was a bit light-headed. Monroe had visited the Grimm clubhouse, as I liked to call it, a few times, but I wasn't sure what to expect.

"You really need to calm down, okay?" Monroe said as he took my hand. "It'll be fine." The smell of my fear was probably filling up his tiny VW. I took in a breath and let the practiced calm wash over me.

We pulled into a parking lot that exuded a high degree of seediness. It seemed the perfect venue for thugs to make sordid deals to off people or to sell cocaine. Maybe I'd watched too many Al Pacino movies. A hodgepodge of trucks and trailers of every kind were parked this way and that. It was like a flea market of vehicles had set up shop, selling rust and broken dreams.

"This is it?" I asked doubtfully. "Is this place safe?"

"Yeah. Well, I mean, I wouldn't want to vacation here or anything, but we'll be okay. And it's daylight. This place is much creepier at night." Monroe parked the VW and cleared his throat. "It's right over there." Monroe pointed to a small, antique looking silver trailer. It wasn't as menacing as I'd pictured, and it didn't seem like it could hold very much. "It's a 1963 vintage airstream Globe Trotter. That baby would've been a beauty back in its heyday, but no one can camp in it now with how they've…" Monroe paused. "You'll just have to see for yourself what I mean."

I stared at the trailer, forcing my calm to stick by me today.

"Well, umm, are you ready?" he asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"So, something to keep in mind," Monroe said as we walked up to the trailer. "He's particular about his things." He sighed. "So, uhh... Just look with your eyes, not with your hands, okay? He hates it when you touch the stuff, word to the wise."

"Okay, so don't touch," I repeated.

Monroe knocked a few times on the silver door.

Nick swung it open almost immediately. "Good, you're here," he said, flashing that toothy grin of his. Monroe entered first, and I followed closely behind him into the clubhouse.

The entire thing was gutted to be one open area. So that's what Monroe had meant. The size of the trailer outside was deceiving. The inside had ample space, filled with multifarious oddities. It was a potpourri of everything macabre. My eyes wanted to go in all directions; there was stuff placed everywhere. Sitting here and there were bottles of potions, books, maps, charts, and jars of god knows what... Perhaps eye of newt and toe of frog? I wouldn't be surprised.

Straight ahead was a trailer daybed decked out with pillows of neutral colors of tan, pumpkin, rust, and olive green. To the left stood an antique card catalog with all sorts of bottles covering its top. Or maybe it was an apothecary cabinet? Well, either way, a Grimm apparently needed lots of mysterious, compartmentalized storage to hide their research and Grimm secrets.

To the far right set an antique corner chair and a wooden lectern. A Grimm must be ready to make speeches, right? My eyes moved up. Oh, wow. Even on the ceiling more maps and diagrams hung above us. Maybe it was a space-saving measure, or perhaps Nick studied them while reclining on his trailer bed?

To the far left were shelves of books, a large armoire, and an antique desk with thick, turned wooden legs and a green leather inset on the desktop. The desk held more bottles and even an animal skull. Well, maybe it was Wesen instead? I didn't want to think about it.

Monroe watched me survey the trailer. "It's pretty awesome, huh?"

"It's..." I searched my mental filing cabinet of words, but was lost on one to appropriately describe it.

Nick motioned me to sit down on the trailer bed. I did as he asked, sitting on the bed's edge, my back tensed straight and alert. Nick pulled out a wooden chair behind the desk. He sat down, wheeling close by me. Monroe remained standing, hovering near the lectern.

"So..." Nick gripped his knees with his hands. "Where do we begin?"

I swallowed hard. My throat was as dry as the Mojave Desert. "Well, like I said last night, I've been able to see Wesen all my life."

"So, you're a Grimm, too?" he asked speculatively.

"I don't know exactly." I let out the breath I'd been holding. "I've done research before on my family history, but when I was home for my dad's funeral I discovered I was adopted."

"Oh," Nick said. "Then are your biological parents...?"

"They were murdered," I replied softly, looking down at my hands.

"Could you be Wesen?"

"Dude, she's human," Monroe said. "I can vouch for that much." He pointed at his nose.

"So, then you might be a Grimm?"

"Anything is possible." I shrugged while glancing back up. "Since learning about the adoption, I'm not sure of anything anymore."

Nick leaned back in the wooden chair and crossed his arms. "I knew you were hiding something, but I really wasn't expecting this." He turned to Monroe. "And you. Why did you keep this from me?"

"Well, you know, this wasn't my secret to share, man."

"And it wasn't something I was ready to share with you immediately," I added quickly. I worked hard to keep my voice even, but what he'd said was just a little rude.

"So, letting a Daemonfeuer know was easier than telling me?" Nick's voice wasn't at all even.

"That was a different situation. I didn't anticipate her woge and I flinched. Usually that doesn't happen."

"Do you _usually_ break into people's houses?" Nick edged forward in his chair. "And why were you even at my house?" His blue-green eyes were trained on me. The detective wanted answers.

"No, I _usually_ don't break in. Your door was open, so I didn't have to break anything." My voice was sharp. "And if you must know, I was at your door because I was planning on telling you my secret last night, actually. But instead of telling you, I guess you got to see it for yourself, first-hand."

"Yeah, that I did." Nick let out a breath. "So, the Lowen…?"

"Yeah, I saw him, and unfortunately he realized I saw him, too."

"I thought you said that _usually_ doesn't happen."

Monroe chuckled softly behind me, and I turned quickly. "She has a bad batting average on Portland reveals." He held back a grin.

"I'm not having a good year," I retorted.

"So, who else knows?" Nick asked.

"Quite a few Wesen know in Louisville, but here in Portland, aside from you and Monroe... Umm, there's a Mauzhertz, the Lowen, and those Daemonfeuers that died last night."

"Who's the Mauzhertz?"

"The bookie that gave Monroe the bogus address to the Lowen Games was a Mauzhertz." I really didn't want to rehash impersonating a Grimm again.

"Did he make you flinch, too?" Nick smirked.

My eyes narrowed as I said, "No."

"She's been through a lot lately, you know?" Monroe chimed in. "Cut her some slack, okay?"

Nick rested his elbows on his legs, laced his fingers together, and rested his chin on top. "So how do you know so much about all this?"

"I had great friends back home. My best friend loves Wesen history, so she and I compiled our own journals of research."

Nick lifted his head. "So then you knew about Monroe the whole time."

"Well, a majority of it. He didn't have a woge until the second time we met." I looked over to Monroe, who had a sheepish grin.

"Monroe, you didn't know she knew?" Nick was piecing the puzzle together quickly.

"Dude, no clue. I mean, I should've figured it out, but honestly I wasn't expecting to run into two Grimms in my lifetime. Lightning rarely strikes the same place twice, you know? Well I guess this would be three if you count your aunt, but I didn't exactly run into her, thankfully, so…"

"So, then you think Renée's a Grimm?" Nick chimed in.

"No, no, no... Look, I don't know what Renée is, man. I just use the term since it's the closest thing to what she is." Monroe shook his head. "But maybe you can help us figure that out."

"I'll do what I can," he said, turning back toward me, "if she trusts me."

"Nick, I trust you, okay?" My God, what did he want from me? A formal letter of apology?

"So, Renée, umm, you wanna talk to Nick about our other, umm, thing that happened, you know, at the airport?" Monroe stammered out, rocking on his heels.

I held my forehead in my hand. "Not really, but I suppose he needs to know."

"Know what?" Nick was on the edge of his chair now.

"As we were headed to board our flight back to Portland," I paused, taking in a breath, "we had an encounter with two Reapers at the airport."

Nick's eyes had surpassed saucers and were as wide as dinner plates. "Reapers?!" he managed to utter through his agape mouth.

"Uh-huh," I replied, pursing my lips. "Monroe dealt with one, and I knocked out the other."

"So, you're telling me you took down a Reaper?" Nick was close to falling off his chair and had to adjust his seat. "With what?"

"With a metal pipe in the parking garage." It sounded like a bad game of _Clue_. Too bad my name wasn't Miss Scarlett.

Nick jerked his head to Monroe. "And yours?"

Monroe shook his head. "You know, we don't really need to go there with all the details."

Nick sucked in his breath at Monroe's words. "Okay, so if Reapers are after Renée, then she must be a Grimm. Reapers aren't sent out for just anyone. At least I don't think they are. Monroe?"

"I dunno, man. I mean, it sounds like someone thinks she is, but I dunno how the whole operation... uhh… operates."

"Monroe, with you dating Renée… Well this is much more than messing with the status quo. It's dangerous. And with what happened to you before…"

"Nick, it's fine." He crossed his arms. "I'll be fine." He met my eyes and gave me a reassuring nod. I recalled the story of the Reapers with a message. That message had been a beaten up Monroe. Maybe Nick was right. Maybe being with Monroe was too risky, too…

"But nothing has happened since you two got back here?" Nick asked, halting my thoughts.

"No scythes or black trench coats," I bleakly replied.

"Good." Nick seemed lost in thought. He'd told me before about the Reaper that had attacked his aunt and how he'd shot him. Was he thinking about that now? Nick looked up, gripped his knees, and gave me a smile. "So, while you're here, you wanna see more of the trailer?"

"Sure." I nodded as I spoke. We were changing subjects. I was more than relieved. He was taking it all quite well. Surprisingly, so was I.

Nick stood, resting his hands on the top of the chair. "My Aunt Marie left me this trailer before she died. It's filled with mystery, knowledge, and… well, various items you can use should you encounter dangerous Wesen." He looked at Monroe. "Well, of course not all Wesen are bad. Case in point over there."

"Uh, thank you?" Monroe replied with a sarcastic smirk.

"But the ones that are and need to be addressed… Well, this trailer has the information to take one down."

"And by take down, he means decapitate," Monroe added.

"Monroe." Nick scoffed. "Come on, please?"

"Sorry," Monroe said, then whispered to me, "but it's true though."

"Well, as you can see, there are some interesting things housed in here. My aunt didn't get a chance to show me what all of it is used for, but you'll notice that on your right there's..."

"Look, man," Monroe interjected. "If you're gonna show her everything, you might as well go through the..."

Nick held his hands up. "Do you want to give the tour, Monroe?"

"Well, no. I'm just saying if you're gonna show her all the ins and outs, it would be good to..."

"Whose trailer is it, yours or mine?"

"Okay, well, you don't have to get all territorial about it," Monroe muttered and stuck his hands in his pockets.

"On your right," Nick continued, "are books that read like journals." He pointed to the small library on a shelf in the far corner. "You know those fairy tales we grew up with?" I managed to nod without rolling my eyes. I was well versed on where fairy tales came from. "Well, my ancestors wrote all the exaggerated, personal accounts that are in those books."

"You know, they're more like tomes, really," Monroe added.

Nick shook his head at Monroe.

"Well they are," he said pointedly. "They're in volumes."

"These _books_ detail every Wesen my ancestors have encountered, and they go back centuries."

Monroe reached for my shoulder. "They're like the notebooks you and Chloe did, but just, like, hundreds and hundreds of years older." Monroe smiled, then his eyes widened. "Oh! You gotta show her the weapons!"

"I'll get to that in a minute, Monroe."

Monroe mouthed, "The weapons are awesome!"

"Now these books describe..."

"Uh, more like malign in some cases," Monroe cut in.

Nick turned to Monroe while shaking his head in frustration. "These books describe everything from Wesen characteristics, to history and weaknesses." He stood up and moved to a section of books, pulling one out to show me. "It all can be found in these pages. Some Wesen have whole books dedicated to them."

The book was definitely old, with heavily scripted words on parchment paper. Sketches and more diagrams were placed within the texts. I'd seen a few pages from the ones Nick had emailed Monroe of the Steinadlers and Schakaln while we were in Kentucky. But to see them up close, these had historical significance, for sure.

"Luckily for me my Aunt Marie continued to add to these books." Nick placed it on the desk and clasped his hands together. "Okay, so you wanna see the weapons cabinet?"

I nodded slowly. I had to admit I was curious, but this place was fitting my clubhouse description better than I'd anticipated.

Nick opened the austere, dark wood armoire across from the desk. "In here you'll find an assortment of medieval weapons that have been collected throughout centuries." There were many _fun_ things in there. I eyed battle axes and swords from where I was sitting.

"Go on over there," Monroe encouraged, motioning toward the armoire with his hand.

I hesitantly stood and walked to where Nick was showcasing the weapons like Vanna White. Upon closer inspection the range of weaponry was expansive to say the least. It was filled to the brim with anything and everything old and barbaric. There were so many that some were mounted to the doors to fit them all inside.

"Now I'll be honest, I don't know what all these things are used for, but I've had to use a few of these weapons already. I'm sure I'll have to use more as time goes on."

"There are plenty to choose from," I said. Stories my Wesen friends had told me of the Grimms of yore ran through my brain. How many of these weapons were part of those tales?

"Now some Wesen can't be stopped using weapons alone. Over there are all these different potions and formulas." He pointed to the collection of multi-colored bottles I'd noticed when we first entered. I walked over to where he was pointing. "These are things you're not going to find in your local pharmacy."

"Or grocery store for that matter," Monroe added.

Bottles of various shapes and sizes, filled with all the colors of the rainbow were clustered together on the top of the apothecary cabinet. I was more certain that's what it had to be given the nature of what was on top. Some of the bottles were corralled on a... lazy Susan? It looked like something out of a clandestine bar, but I was definitely not going to drink any of these things.

Nick moved forward and picked out a bottle of red liquid. "Now this one is Siegbarste Gift. That's what Monroe used to take down the Siegbarste with the gun." My eyes glanced at Monroe, who was nodding, but then he sat down on the trailer bed in a slump. I directed my attention back to Nick. "The word 'gift' is a German word meaning poison." A faint huff came from behind me. I held back a laugh. Monroe must have taught Nick that one from the sound of it.

I reached for a bottle of green liquid, but then jerked my hand back. No touching. I'd almost forgotten. "What's that one?"

Nick picked it up, eyeing the label. "sch… laf...trunk?"

"Hmm… Schlaf. Could mean hypnotic… something?"

We both turned to Monroe, who was giving us a smug grin as he crossed his arms.

"Not hypnotic…" I said at his expression. I closed my eyes and rummaged through the filing cabinet drawers in my brain. "Sleep." My eyes reopened to Monroe nodding with a grin.

"One point to Renée," said Monroe. "Basically, schlaftrunk means sleeping potion."

I smiled at his brilliance. But then my eyes landed back on the green liquid in Nick's hands. My smile faded. Who would need a sleeping potion? I grimaced.

"Well, good to know." Nick made his own face, setting the bottle back down. "We'll just put that back here for safe keeping." He glanced back up at me. "Do you have any questions or anything?"

"So, the Daemonfeuers…What exactly happened in the mining tunnel last night after we got out?"

Nick told us both about slaying the male dragon and then Miss Fireball surrounding herself in fire as she chanted, not listening to Nick's request to stop. So, Nick had killed a dragon while I was captured by one. Score one point for Nick. Not that I wanted to kill anyone, but I hated that a Grimm of a third of a year could control the situation better than I could when I'd been surrounded by this world all my life. No, the self pity train needed to go back to its station. It happened, and I was going to move on.

Nick crossed the trailer again and bent down, opening a cabinet. "Oh, then there's the film of Hitler. You remember the coins you found info on?"

"I already saw Hitler woge," I said softly.

"You did?" Nick rose and looked to Monroe.

"It's true. She's the one who researched it at the library," Monroe said before Nick could ask. "Actually, she's the one who suggested that Hitler might be Wesen."

Nick seemed impressed as he leaned his hands against the desk. "Really? Huh."

The heat crept up my cheeks. Monroe didn't need to tell Nick all that. I was more than happy letting Nick believe Monroe had deduced the Hitler idea.

"She's got a knack for this stuff, dude."

"Well, then you need to see some of these other films. There are so many of them I haven't even watched yet."

"Maybe another time," I said. I sat back down on the trailer bed next to Monroe, who was leaning forward to see the films.

"Maybe we could watch one," he encouraged, placing his hand on my knee. "I wonder what kind of projector he has." His eyes moved around the trailer, more than likely searching for a projector.

I shook my head at him. This was overwhelming. All these ways to kill, maim, and knock out Wesen. While it was true there were some horrible ones out there, it still seemed savage. I looked up at the clock on the wall. "It's almost noon? Wow…"

Monroe lifted his wrist. "No, it's closer to one." His eyes met Nick's. "Didn't you set your clock forward?"

"Umm, no. I really didn't think…"

Monroe was already up on his feet, stretching up for the clock on the wall. As he stretched, he sneezed loudly, knocking a candlestick off the shelf by the window.

"Monroe, watch it, please!" Nick called out.

"Sorry!" Monroe stopped and picked up the candlestick, placing it back on its shelf, and then slowly reached again for the clock, setting the time correctly. "There. Now you're good for seven months or so at least." He nodded at his handiwork.

"Okay. Well, thanks for that," Nick unconvincingly said.

"I stood and grasped Monroe's arm. "Perhaps we should go."

Nick seemed deflated. "Okay, well…"

"I'd like to come back sometime," I told Nick. "Perhaps we can research into my family tree if that's all right with you?"

"Yeah." Nick sported his toothy grin. "We can do that. What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow?" That was quicker than I expected. I glanced at Monroe, who just shrugged. "Uh, no plans. Would that be okay?"

"Sure." He tapped the book on the desk. "We can hit the books tomorrow."

"Thank you, Nick," I said. "I'm kind of glad all this is out in the open now."

He cast me a serious glance. "Just refrain from rushing into my house the next time you want to tell me something."

I nodded. "As long as you don't plan on having anymore Daemonfeuers in your bedroom." I gave him a slight smirk.

"I only like one thing that's red in my bedroom, and it's not fire."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

I toyed with the buckle on my shoulder bag during the drive back to Monroe's. Ancient texts, weapons, and potions. It was something out of a horror movie, but it was all there plain as day and as real as it could be. And Nick had used that stuff… Monroe, too. I tried to find it revolting, but my recklessness wanted to turn around and go back. Those books alone would keep me occupied for hours. The confliction was pulling at me.

"You're awfully quiet," said Monroe, jerking me out of my thoughts.

"Sorry," I replied, looking back toward him. "There's a lot in that trailer."

"I know. And you haven't even seen half of it. Actually, I haven't either." Monroe chuckled, and then coughed loudly. "You know, I never got a tour like that before."

"Yeah, I'm sure there's plenty more."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing… It's just…" I looked up at him as he gave me a sideways glance. "Don't you find all that a bit…?"

"A bit Bram Stoker-ish?" he said before I could say it first. Sometimes we were on the same page, fiction or otherwise. "I mean, yeah. I'm sure there's some of that stuff that was used in nefarious ways, but Nick's not like that. He's, like, Grimm: The Next Generation." He gave me a look at my blank expression. "Sorry, dumb Star Trek joke."

I laughed. "It's a bit sci-fi, that's for sure."

"Honey, it's not all that hard to fathom the other side of it, you know?"

I nodded. Although I could fathom it, I just didn't want the excitement of it building inside me the way it was. Somehow that felt wrong… completely and utterly wrong.

"I wonder what the other films he has," said Monroe. "They looked pretty old, so he'd need a good size projector. A Keystone maybe? I haven't seen a Keystone in a long time."

"Maybe we can watch a regular movie," I suggested. "Something happy with rainbows and butterflies would be preferred."

Monroe laughed. "Well, I have plans to keep your mind occupied when we get back to my place." He grinned at me. "We have clocks to set back in the bedroom."

"How could I forget?" I grinned back.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so Nick is in the loop! Finally, huh? (;


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

After setting clocks and Monroe making me tick in the bedroom, I took some time to see Sandra at her boutique. Shopping would take my mind off the trailer, at least briefly. I still had a gala to attend on Tuesday, and I wanted something new and sophisticated. It wouldn't have a designer label like Lydia's dresses, but I would still make it look good.

"Hey, Sandra!" I smiled as I walked into my favorite Portland boutique.

"Renée, how are you?" Sandra beamed from behind the counter.

"I'm good. I need a dress for Lydia Swift's art gala on Tuesday. Are you attending that one?" I asked as I perused a few dresses from the rack.

"Yes, I have a new piece I'm displaying called _A Tree for all Seasons_. I'm really proud of this one!" Sandra had a woge as she smiled. Her squirrel features prominently appeared on her face.

"I like that title," I said while eyeing a lavender dress that was lovely. "It really fits you."

"What do you mean?" Sandra asked and I turned to her quickly. She had a discerning look on her face. I wasn't watching my words.

"I just mean it fits the theme you have with your other pieces." I held up the lavender dress. "Do you have this one in a six?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah, actually I should." Sandra's face relaxed and she smiled. Wesen discussion averted, thank goodness. I let out a breath as Sandra went to the back room. I really liked Sandra the Squirrel Girl, so if she knew about my secret I wouldn't be too upset. The thought quickly vanished as I remembered the Reapers. No one else needed to know what I could see. I really hated that.

"Size six!" Sandra came out holding up the dress. "This one will look smashing on you!"

The boatneck, sleeveless dress fit like a glove. Fluttering lavender chiffon draped over my curves and it was circled by a jet black sash. Although it fell just below the knee, it was still a sophisticated length. I had a pair of black heels and a black handbag that would complement the sash. Sandra was right. I looked pretty darn great.

I changed quickly and met Sandra at the counter to pay for the dress.

"I guess I'll be seeing you on Tuesday at the gala," I smiled at her as I pulled out my card.

"Oh, yes," she nodded. "Lydia says that my new piece ought to sell quickly. I love working with her."

"Don't you find her a bit... artificial?" I asked.

"A little. But she's a business woman," she replied with a shrug.

"You and I are business women, too, but we at least know what a real smile looks like." I laughed to keep it light. I wasn't trying to berate Madame Dazzles, but she still got under my skin.

"True, but I really like Lydia. She's helped me a great deal," Sandra reasoned. "These galas she hosts have been so helpful to me and many other local artists that don't have the opportunities to be displayed like the bigger names do."

I nodded. Maybe there was good in Madame Dazzles after all.

I left the boutique feeling jubilant about my new purchase. I was determined to have a good time on Tuesday.

* * *

A/N: Renée needs to watch her wording... She's slipping. LOL!


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Monday was just a normal day. My bruises were gone and all that was left was a faint line where the cut had been. I kept my hair down, covering the spot, but my foundation had mostly concealed it. All the drama from the weekend was swept under the rug and was replaced by merger talks and trainings. My boss was seated alongside Daniel in my office, giving us an overview of the trainings in late June. Most of the information I was aware of, but there were a few incidentals I hadn't heard about until today. Namely, where these trainings would be held. My cell rang as we were discussing the location, and it was looking like Daniel and I were going to be flying out to Denver.

"So, what do you know about a bull Wesen?" asked Nick before I could say anything. "I've got one here that…"

My eyes widened. "Uhh… Can you call Monroe about this?"

"Monroe isn't answering his phone and I need to know…"

"Nick, I'm at work," I whispered as my boss gave me a curious look.

"Am I interrupting something, Miss Davenport?" he asked as he crossed his leg. Daniel just gave me a smug grin.

"No, not at all," I said quickly. "Nick, I have to go," I said into the phone and hung up. "Umm, so very sorry about that," I stammered.

We continued to discuss the travel schedule, but I was completely distracted. Was this going to be a thing now? Would Nick just call out of the blue to talk Wesen if Monroe wasn't free?

My boss passed both of us the itinerary. I glanced down at the page. The trainings were going to last two weeks, split up into four groups. Daniel and I would be staying the duration in Denver during that time. Wow, this wasn't going to be a fun trip. Two weeks with Daniel… just great.

As my boss left, Daniel lingered, leaning against my desk with that boy next door smile planted on his face.

"So two weeks of working together… with you. I think I'm going to like Denver."

I leaned back in my chair. "Yeah, it's going to be a real joy."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Once I got home I called Nick back.

"So where did you see a Mordsteir?" I asked once he answered.

"Just someone we picked up today had a woge into one. Don't worry about it."

"You caught me at a bad time earlier today."

"Oh. I didn't know," he replied.

"Nick, I can't really discuss Wesen when I'm at work. My boss was in my office when you called. I hope you understand that."

"I finally got hold of Monroe this afternoon. It's fine," Nick said.

"I'm glad you got the info, but I can't be on call during the day like Monroe can."

"I wouldn't have called if it wasn't important."

"I'm sure it was. I get that." I stopped there. It was pointless to say it again. Besides, I still needed Nick to find out more about my family. "Are you still free tonight for some family tree research?"

"Yeah, it's been a non-productive day. We're at a stand-still on a theft we're investigating and staying here isn't doing any good. I'll be leaving here soon."

"Good, I'll reach Monroe. What time should we arrive?"

"Come by in a few hours, but call first, okay?"

"Sure. Thanks, Nick."

I had butterflies fluttering about as my thoughts rested on the idea that I might know the truth tonight. I called Monroe and he was fine to come out.

"Uh, when is that art gala thing?"

"Tomorrow night at six."

"Hmm…"

"Why, what's wrong?"

"Well, I've got a meeting tomorrow at nine." He paused. "We could do both if we don't have to stay too long at the gala."

"Meeting?"

"You know… a _meeting_."

"Oh… That kind of meeting." Monroe had mentioned he was going to start going to meet with a few guys to help with his regimen at a place called Helvetia Tavern. From the sound of it, the meetings were about to begin. "No, that's fine. We can do a couple hours at the gala. That will give you time to drive to Hillsboro, right?"

"Yeah, that oughta work."

"Great. So, you want to head over here for a while and then we can go to the trailer tonight? I'll order take out."

"Hmm… Take out."

"What's wrong with take out?"

"Well it's… edible," he coughed out. "You know, I still have a list of some things we could get for that kitchen of yours. What do you say we use the time to do some shopping?"

"But what about dinner?"

"If we shop quickly, I'll make you dinner with your new accessories."

"So, I get new gadgets and your dinner? How can I refuse?"

"Well, you've got to help me in the kitchen."

"I can handle that."

"Good. I'll be over to pick you up."

* * *

A/N: Seems Renée is now the back-up Grimmopedia. lol!

Time for some shopping with Monroe. (:


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

The Bed Bath and Beyond on Southeast Washington Street was like a Target on steroids. The tightly packed aisles had everything one could ever need to become Donna Reed. Well, except for the pearls. Pearls were sold separately. We were finding all the items on Monroe's list and beyond. I understood the name of the store now.

"This set of knives will chop the hell out of your root vegetables, but then these will work better for your softer varieties, like tomatoes," said Monroe as he held up the sharp blades that were similar to the ones that were magnetized by his stove.

"There's not one knife to rule them all?" I asked with a grin and Monroe laughed.

"While I appreciate the Tolkien reference, no, you need different knives for different tasks."

The cart filled quickly with each passing moment. From cast iron skillets to Dutch ovens, balloon whisks and colanders, I wasn't even questioning the purchases anymore. Monroe would 'ooh' and 'ahh,' and in the basket it went. I'd never seen a man so into shopping before. Women would pass by and give me a silly grin, just watching him. I glanced up at Monroe. Did he know how appealing he must look? A man who liked shopping was a rare find, and mine was practically giddy. I held his arm and gave a nod as I received a few jealous looks in return. Yes ladies, this Blutbad is taken. Move along.

Monroe stopped the cart and gave me a look. "What are you grinning about?"

"Oh, nothing," I said. For a man with enhanced senses, he was oblivious to women checking him out. Well, that was actually a good thing in a way. "I'll tell you in the car."

The final aisle held the best item of all: the French press.

"Now they sell metal ones like these," Monroe said while pointing out a few on the shelves, "But I'd recommend getting a glass one like mine, so you can check that no grounds are escaping the filter."

I picked up a glass one that almost resembled a beer stein. "This one seems nice."

"Yeah, that's a top of the line Grosche model. A little pricey, but worth it."

I put it in the cart. "But what about grinders? Do I need a Burr Mill… one?"

Monroe shook his head with a grin. "We can get you something a bit easier to use."

"But will it taste as good as what you make?"

"Well, you gotta have a little know-how and some experience to make it the way I do." His response was smug, but he had every right to be. The man made a darn good cup of coffee.

"I trust your know-how to pick me out an acceptable grinder."

Monroe nodded. "Yeah, I figured you would."

After Monroe put a grinder in the cart we made our way to the checkout lanes.

"That'll be five-hundred twenty dollars and ninety-four cents," said the clerk.

"Five-hundred… what?" Monroe reached for his hair.

I searched for my wallet in my bag. "I've got it."

Monroe grabbed my hand. "No, I've got this. I told you I'd take care of it."

"Really, Monroe, it's fine."

Monroe pulled his wallet from his back pocket. "I've got it." His eyes widened and that authority came through. I gave in to the hospitality. But, I didn't want him going over his budget because of me.

Once everything was packed in the back of the VW, we got inside and buckled up. Monroe removed a handkerchief as he sneezed.

"Gesundheit," I said.

He shook his head and let out a small groan. "Danke," he managed to reply.

I reached for his shoulder. "Oh, Monroe. I really hope you get over this soon."

He put his handkerchief back in his pocket. Only he would carry one.

"Eh, I'll be fine. It'll run its course."

"About these purchases… You sure I can't go in half on what you spent today?" I asked as Monroe started the ignition.

Monroe shook his head quickly. "I wanted to do this. I just wasn't calculating it to be, umm, that much."

"Well it was awfully sweet of you," I said. "I only hope I'll be able to use everything."

Monroe gave me a smirk as he got back on the I-84. "We'll work on it." He focused back on the road. "So, what were you grinning about earlier?"

"Oh, that," I chuckled. "You had quite a few admirers back there."

"Admirers?"

"Yeah. Some of the women were practically drooling while you were getting excited about cutlery."

"Really? Who knew?" he replied with a slight grin. "So was that why you had a firm grip on my arm throughout most of the trip?"

"Well, I didn't want them to think you were available."

"Marking me as yours, huh?"

"No, uh, I didn't mean it like that," I stammered out quickly. "I'm not the possessive type or anything." A burst of heat crept up my cheeks. Crap, I didn't want him to think I was trying to sink my claws into him, although I kind of was.

Monroe reached for my hand. "Nothing wrong with that."

We deviated off the interstate since Monroe wanted to stop by Whole Foods for ingredients for dinner. I checked my phone; we'd been out for an hour already.

"This will be quick, I promise," said Monroe.

Another thirty minutes and we were headed back to my house. During the trip he picked out various whole spices to 'replace my generic ones.' I also got a small grinder to go along with it. Fortunately, Monroe allowed me to pay for this shopping trip. He had spent enough money today and he was cooking. The least I could do was buy the ingredients. He couldn't refute my logic.

After Monroe unpacked his purchases, I didn't recognize the place. My kitchen looked like something out of a _Good Housekeeping_ magazine with everything arranged on the counter. I had to admit it looked pretty nice. My new French press and grinder set side-by-side and I ran my hand across the plunger. Monroe-made coffee in my house. Now I was the giddy one.

With my new accessories we chopped, sliced, grated, and prepared for a Moroccan vegetarian stew with couscous and stuffed peppers.

"So what is coriander exactly?" I asked as I held up the spice bottle.

Monroe shook his head as he added the vegetables to the Dutch oven. "It's dried cilantro seeds."

"So… It's dried cilantro, but it's called coriander? But I've seen dried cilantro before." I read the back of the bottle as Monroe laughed.

"The Latin name for the herb is Coriandrum sativum, from which the word 'coriander' is ultimately derived. Now the word 'cilantro' is from the Spanish translation. The leaves and stalks are considered cilantro, while the seeds go by the Latin derivative coriander. Now over in the UK, they don't even use the term 'cilantro' at all. It's either coriander, or coriander seeds. Funny how we're all supposed to speak English, but then you have a word like that and it's completely different. Night and day, you know?" Monroe looked down at the Dutch oven. "Crap, I need to get these other vegetables in or it won't cook right."

"You are a man of vast knowledge," I replied as he worked to fill the pot.

He turned as he wiggled his eyebrows. "And that's just one herb. Imagine what I could tell you about the other ones over there."

"I have no doubt," I replied with a grin. "This is why the women were watching you at the grocery store, too."

"You know, I think you're making all these women up. I've never been approached at the store." He looked up like he was thinking. "Well, there was this one time, but that was… Yeah, that wasn't such a good experience."

I wasn't about to ask.

"So anything else I can help with?"

"I think we have it all cooking." He moved to my cabinets. "You wanna set the table?"

I nodded. "Pass me the plates."

The table was set with my new gray placemats and we used the new serving bowls for the stew and peppers. I lit a taper candle as the centerpiece. The table looked like a real dining room table. I was impressed.

"This is… really nice," I said as we ate.

"So, better than take out?"

"Absolutely," I said between bites. "This stew is delicious."

"Not too spicy?" Monroe asked as he set his fork down.

"I enjoy a bit of spice," I grinned.

"Me too, to be honest. It's good to help beat a cold. Some people just can't handle it, though." He resumed eating.

I raised an eyebrow. "Then they don't know what they're missing."

* * *

A/N: So our Blutbad has some admirers. lol

Just a bit of Monroe-ish trivia with herbs here. You always learn something new with my stories, right?

Next chapter is research time!


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

After dinner, Monroe called Nick, and he was already at the trailer. We headed back out. The knots were forming in my stomach again along the drive. What was going to be in there to answer all these questions? I softly hummed 'Who are You' on the way to the seedy parking lot as a myriad of thoughts passed through my brain.

_"Who are you?_  
_Who, who, who, who?"_

"Hopefully we'll get you an answer to that song," Monroe said, startling me from my thoughts. He glanced over at me with a small smile.

"Yeah, hopefully," I replied with a sigh. "So are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"Yeah." He sniffled. "Better than yesterday. The stew helped. I should be fine by Wednesday. Blutbaden don't stay sick for long. We're a hardy bunch."

I rubbed his arm. "Perhaps we should've postponed for another day."

"No, no. I'm fine, really." He sneezed again, and I whimpered at him. "The worst thing is that my senses are all off. I can barely smell your vanilla, and I'm, like, right next to you. It's brutal."

"Aww, Honey."

"Like I said, I'll be back to normal by Wednesday… Probably."

Monroe parked the VW, and we quickly walked up. I held my breath as he knocked on the door of the Little Trailer of Wesen Horrors. Nick motioned us to come inside and have a seat. I resumed the spot on the trailer bed, but Monroe chose to stand instead.

As I sat down, I pulled out my manila envelope. After hours and hours of research, Chloe had recently found more on my Mom's side. I'd printed out the email she'd sent me with additional surnames. My dad's side was still a mystery. Chloe said she'd scoured for any hint of a birth record and had come up empty-handed. It was frustrating her to no end.

"What's that?" asked Nick as I began to remove the papers.

"Just what I have so far on my biological parents. It's not much." I passed him the article on their death. "So, as a detective, how much pull do you have to get information about cases in other states?"

"Well, it depends. Sometimes if there's a link to a case we're working on here, I can request files from other areas." He looked up at me. "Why do you ask?"

"My parents' murder was a cold case," I said. "They never found who killed them."

Nick nodded. "Mine were the same way. It looked like a car accident, but my aunt said they were murdered." Nick skimmed through the article. "I'll check into it. Maybe I can get some details. Most times the newspapers won't have specifics for a case like this. The reports from the Medical Examiner and the incident reports will tell us better what really happened."

"You can get that?"

"Maybe. I can't promise anything."

I nodded as I shared the rest of the contents of the envelope with Nick.

"Okay. So, we have your dad's last name as Archer, and your mom's maiden name…"

"Whoa, is this an Akeley?" Monroe excitedly asked, and I turned as he edged his way to the corner of the trailer to retrieve an antique looking camera. He held it up, grinning like a kid who'd just told Santa what he wanted for Christmas. "Oh, my God. It is!" He grinned wildly as he examined the camera, but Nick looked tense when I turned back toward him.

"Be careful with that," Nick warned and Monroe jolted his eyes up. He didn't seem to practice what he preached on the no touch rule.

Monroe carefully set down the camera, but then his eyes lit up again as he noticed another camera sitting close by. "No way! Dude, a Kineclair projector? My great-uncle on my mother's side, Olaf... that's my uncle's name, not my mother's... he had a camera shop on..." Monroe paused as he looked back up at Nick, who had gone from tense to downright irritated. "Right. Sorry. I just haven't seen one of these cameras in forever. Like I was saying, my Great-Uncle Olaf ran a..."

"Monroe," Nick stopped him, "we're kinda busy here," he said brusquely, turning back to me.

I gave Nick a scowl and turned to Monroe, who now looked like a kid whom Santa had told was getting a lump of coal. "Well I want to know about this Akeley and Kineclair. The Grimm information isn't going anywhere," I said matter-of-factly. I loved Monroe's sexy brain, and no one, not even Nick, needed to stop him like that.

"Nah, it's fine," Monroe conceded with a sigh and moved toward the trailer bed, sitting down. "I'll tell you about it later."

I turned back to Nick and refrained from jumping all over him. He was helping me, after all. I could hold in my frustrations and rant in the car later. Right now I'd focus on the task at hand… finding out how I fit into this world I'd lived in all my life.

"Okay, so your mom's maiden name is Morder," Nick continued.

"I have a few more last names to check, too." I passed him the email from Chloe.

Nick looked up from the paper after he scanned it. "There's eight different names on here."

I nodded. "That's three generations back."

"Let me see what we have in here that has a lineage of Grimms." Nick stood and moved to his collection of books. "Well, there's one here on Bauerschweins, Mauzerhertz, Tranks… Whatever kind of Wesen that is."

Monroe let out a snort, and Nick jerked back.

"What?" he asked Monroe.

"Nothing." Monroe gestured with his hands with a smug grin. "Never mind. Carry on."

Nick shook his head and went back to the reading through the spines. "Okay, here's one that says, 'Grimm.' And there's another one." He lifted the two books to the desk. Nick opened up the first one, turning the pages, and then he did the same for the other one.

Monroe and I sat quietly while he examined them.

"So these books have the entire Grimm lineage, going as far back as the early 1900s from what I can tell." Nick grinned at me. "If you're a Grimm, then one of these names ought to be in the lineage, and then we'll know for sure."

I sized up the books. "We've got our work cut out for us then."

Nick passed one over to me. "One for each of us."

"Nick, I can go through one of them," said Monroe as he stood up.

"I don't mind, Monroe," Nick replied.

Monroe sat back down and let out a short sigh. "I guess I can just sit here and twiddle my thumbs instead."

"Here." Nick reached for another journal and a notepad. "See how much German you can translate from this one. Just write down the translation, and stick the notepaper in the book."

Monroe's eyes brightened. He nodded eagerly as Nick handed him the journal like a parent giving their kid a coloring book with a box of new crayons.

I smiled at Monroe, but he was already too engrossed in the journal to notice.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Time passed slowly as we scoured the pages. The words were beginning to run together while I scanned though name upon name. The sheer number of Grimms was overwhelming. Who knew there could be so many? Granted, most of these countless people were dead and long gone, but still it was massive. The names filled up this entire book, and it was quite hefty. I looked up at the equally large book Nick was scanning and shook my head. With so many names from the list to check, this was a daunting task.

As I turned my next page, I paused. Scribbled on the branch of one of the trees was the name Mordor. I quickly reached for my ancestry page from what Chloe had gathered and traced back a few generations. The furthest back she'd found was Franz Mordor, my great-grandfather. I re-read the name from the book, matching Franz and his son, Lukas, on the tree.

I almost leapt out of my seat as I exclaimed, "Found it!"

Both Nick and Monroe perked up, leaning in as I pointed out the name. I traced the lineage back with my finger to the top branch. It wasn't Jacob or Wilhelm as I had assumed to find, but their sister, Charlotte, who was linked to an H.C. Anderson. Monroe and I looked at each other as we both deduced the initials rather quickly.

"Oh, wow... Hans Christian Anderson?!" Monroe exclaimed aloud, and I was right there with him.

"Didn't Anderson write fairy tales, too?" Nick asked as he watched us intently.

"Uh, yeah. Ever heard of _The Little Mermaid_?" Monroe asked with a dash of sarcasm. "That's Hans Christian Anderson. He wrote many others, too. Back in 1835..."

"Okay, I get it, Monroe," Nick interjected. "He wrote fairy tales like the Grimms did." I held in a scowl. No wonder Monroe was afraid to finish his sentences. "So what do these words mean?" Nick asked, pointing to the German. The word 'ehestand' was written beside their names, and 'uneheliches kind' was written beside the child below them.

"So, you don't want to hear about ol' Hans, but you want me to help you translate? I see how it is."

Nick stared at him. "Monroe."

"Okay, fine." Monroe scoffed. "So, this Grimm sister and Hans Christian Anderson had a child out of wedlock," Monroe noted, pointing at the word 'ehestand.' "And so the child was... Well, not to be rude, but he was a bastard." He pointed to the German words 'uneheliches kind.'

"Well, then that settles it." Nick looked pretty satisfied as he leaned back in his desk chair with a smile on his face. "Renée, you're a Grimm."

"Yeah, it would seem I'm part of the Grimm family." I nodded slowly, tracing the names again with my finger. "Illegitimate by their standards back then, but a Grimm nonetheless." I shook my head in disbelief. I was floored. Absolutely floored. I was the progeny of the Grimms and of Hans Christian Anderson... just amazing.

Monroe's hands rested on my shoulders and he gave them a squeeze. "What a lineage though."

As I read further, my eyes shifted to more German off to the left of Anderson's name. Underlined were the words, 'Fähigkeit Sehen die Wahrheit.'

Monroe saw where I was looking and made a slight gasp. "Uh, maybe I'm not reading that correctly, but… Umm, no. I'm reading that correctly." Monroe's eyes were wide as I turned to him. I wasn't getting the translation.

"You wanna share, Monroe?" Nick asked expectantly.

"'Fähigkeit Sehen die Wahrheit' loosely translates to 'the ability to see the truth.' So, I mean, it sounds like that maybe…"

Nick broke in. "Hans Christian Anderson could see Wesen, too?"

Monroe ran a hand through his wild, curly hair and let out a short breath. "I guess that's how a Grimm would refer to someone else who could… Well, who could see _us_." He looked at me quickly due to the separation, but I didn't mind.

"Seeing the truth could mean he just saw a woge, right? Average humans can see Wesen when they want to be seen." My ex, Jack, saw the truth at Phoenix Hill Tavern when Monroe showed him his true Blutbad form.

"Yeah, I see your point there, but I don't think they would write 'ability' if he just saw one of us, you know? That would be something like 'Erblickte die Wahrheit,' to mean he saw the truth."

"So, there are more than just Grimms that can see you guys?" Nick edged up out of his chair. He could care less about separation. "So then the Andersons had a line, too?'

"Well, if you had let me finish before, Anderson never married nor did he have any kids… Well, except for this new discovery," Monroe said. "But he did have a step-sister, and I'm sure there could be cousins. But we've never heard of anything but Grimms, so if they were from another line, we wouldn't have known the difference."

I skimmed though the next few pages, searching for more on Anderson, but wasn't seeing anything else. I went back to the page, counting up the branches. Charlotte would be my eighth great-grandmother. So then Nick and I were cousins. Extremely distant cousins, but family nonetheless. I turned to the dark-headed Grimm as he and Monroe talked back and forth about the history of Hans Christian Anderson. I had family.

"Do you mind if I document this?" I asked Nick, trying to speak while there was a small gap in their conversation.

Nick smiled that toothy grin at me. "Help yourself."

I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and took a few photos of the page. I would transcribe it later and then delete the photo. It wasn't safe to carry around this kind of information. I had to tell Chloe. I'd call her tonight and let her know what I'd found.

As I closed the book, I let out a deep breath. My dad came to mind, and I imagined him smiling at me. I did my research, so now I could honestly say I was a Grimm. But was I happy with knowing the answer?

I turned to Monroe. "So, Morder translating to Murder and Slayer… Just a coincidence?"

"Yeah, well, ya never know with those kinds of names," Monroe answered with a shrug. "They may have adopted it, you know, given their situation and all. But, one does not simply choose the name Mordor." He smirked.

I rolled my eyes slightly.

"Oh, come on," he teased. "You were thinking it, too."

"Actually, I was thinking that it took you long enough to make a _Lord of the Rings_ joke out of that name."

"Hey, I was trying to be polite."

Nick stood up and cleared his throat, halting our banter. "It's getting kinda late. I still have to head back into the precinct to work on some things." Monroe and I stood as well.

"Thank you again for your help," I said, giving Nick a smile.

"I'm glad you found what you were looking for."

As Monroe and I left the trailer, I was still uncertain how I ought to feel. I wanted to be happy; happy that I knew the truth and understood why I could see what I could see, but unfortunately, I was feeling more melancholy than anything.

"You okay?" Monroe asked as we got into the VW.

"Yeah, I'm good," I replied, feigning a smile.

"You sure? 'Cause that's not much of a happy face you've got going on right now."

I leaned back into the seat. "I'm just trying to process everything."

"This is what you wanted though, right?" said Monroe. "You wanted to know who you were. And I must admit, your ancestry is its own literary romance." He always knew the right thing to say.

"I'm a descendant of the love child of Hans Christian Anderson and the Grimm's sister. It almost seems dirty." I laughed in spite of myself.

"And if Anderson could see what they could, then it makes more sense why those guys met up so often. It had to do with more than fairy tales, I'm sure."

"So, I want to hear about those cameras," I said, changing the subject. "Nick really pissed me off, cutting you short like that."

"Eh, he was focused on helping you," Monroe reasoned, but it still upset me. "I got excited, and, you know, I tend to want to share when I get excited."

"But it wasn't just the cameras," I said hotly. "You were trying to tell him about Anderson and he cut you short there, too. Does he do that often?"

"Yeah, well… Nick is a 'just the facts' kinda guy. That's his job, Renée. He cuts right to the chase. I, on the other hand, like the details."

I leaned against his arm. "Well, I like the details, too."

"That's why we work so well together," Monroe said with a short chuckle, and I genuinely smiled this time.

"So Akeleys and Kineclairs. I'm all ears."

"Kineclairs I don't know much about except they were produced by the Eclair Company in the early 1900s. But Akeleys, now those I'm well versed on." Monroe smiled like he had before. "Now you need to know that Carl Akeley, the inventor, was a man of many firsts. Aside from developing the 35 mm motion picture camera, like the one in the trailer, he also invented the cement spray gun and one of the earlier searchlights, which was used in the First World War. Akeley also helped revolutionize taxidermy by using clay, which in my opinion, taxidermy is disturbing, and it kinda creeps me out." Monroe shook his head. "Anyway, back to cameras. Akeleys were originally the standard for many naturalists during field research in the '20s through the '40s. But the shutter mechanism was the camera's, you know, real 'claim-to-fame.' Standard 'box style' motion picture cameras only had an 180 degree shutter, whereas Akeley was able to extend his to 230 degrees, which was totally unique since the faster shutter speed allowed for filming when light was scarce. Just real neat cameras, man."

I listened to Monroe intently. How hard was it for Nick to do the same? I shook my head. "Where did such an interest in old cameras stem from?" I asked.

"You see, my great-uncle, Olaf, worked as a newsreel cameraman in Berlin back in the '20s. He had a camera shop on the Leitung Strasse, so when he died, my mother got all of his old stuff. Then they got passed down to me along with all the stories."

I didn't know much about his family. I'd tried not to pry. Sometimes I'd get a tale like this one, and I'd gain a little insight into his family tree.

"There must be a lot of history, too."

"There is," he agreed. "But just seeing those old vintage cameras, man, got me thinking, and now I want to find my great-uncle's cameras. I know they're in the attic somewhere, I just gotta rummage through those boxes and figure out where I put them."

"Sounds like an adventure to me," I grinned. There had to be all sorts of treasures stashed away in Monroe's attic. His house was already its own museum. Who knew what else he had stored up there? I was curious, I had to admit.

"If you wanna help me look that would be great."

"I'd like that, sure."

"Good, 'cause I have a tendency to get sidetracked." Oh, I bet he did.

* * *

A/N: She's a Grimm! Some interesting revelations here! But now that she knows, what does it mean? Guess we'll find out soon.

STAY TUNED!


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Once we arrived back at Monroe's, the first thing I did was call Chloe.

"So it's true then," she said after I told her what we'd found out today.

"Yeah, it's official. My mom was a Grimm."

"Hmm…" she mumbled as a few clicks of her teeth came through the receiver.

"Are you okay?"

"Huh? Yeah, it's just… I don't know… It seems so real now."

"Yeah… it's all real." I paused. I wanted to talk to her about the trailer, but I'd wait until Monroe wasn't in earshot. My thoughts about that place might offend him.

"Okay, so you're a Grimm." Her tone brightened. "So what, right?"

"Right," I replied with less enthusiasm as I curled my legs under me on the couch.

"Why did you decide to come clean to the Grimm anyway?"

I hadn't talked to Chloe about my plans. I hadn't shared my plans with anyone.

"If I was going to know for sure what I was, then I had to let him in my circle." I avoided the story of the reveal and the Daemonfeuer. Just too much to talk about.

"Did he take it well? Was he surprised?"

"Yeah, it came as a shock." I tried not laugh. "But he took the news as well as anyone in his situation, I suppose."

"I thought I was going to help you research it." Her pout came though the phone.

"You did help. If it hadn't been for your information, I wouldn't have had the names to match it all up. Thank you so much."

"No problem," she said faintly, then her tone went back to her motherly one as she said, "Just because he knows, this does _not_ give you permission to go off on your reckless behavior. I don't want to find out you're out hunting with that other Grimm and waving some family birthright warrior bullshit around, you hear me?"

This time I actually laughed. "I won't wave anything around, I promise."

"You know what I mean, Renée."

"I get your point. So are we still good, now that I'm…"

"I love you no matter what you are," she replied before I could finish. "That won't change." Her direct link to my brain told her exactly what I was thinking about.

I held back a few tears, but I just couldn't keep them from coming. "Good, 'cause I need you, Chloe."

"Come on now. Don't cry over it. I'm happy you know what you are. I always figured it was a Grimm, though."

I chuckled through my tears. "Right, you just knew."

"Hey, I'm wise beyond my years. How many times do you need to be reminded of that?"

"Of course. The all-knowing Chloe. How could I forget?"

"You still have to be safe for me. No crazy Grimm crap. Promise?"

"I'll be safe. Promise." I replied as confidently as I could. Monroe rolled his eyes as I said the words.

I hung up the phone and dried my eyes. Monroe rested his hand on my shoulder.

I looked up at him. "I didn't even ask you… Are you okay with all this? Do you still feel the same? I know we talked about this in Kentucky, but now that it's all…" My eyes welled up all over again.

"Hun, of course I feel the same about you. It doesn't matter to me. My feelings aren't going to change over some family tree in an old book. You're more than just your pedigree, you know?" I held back a grin at his terminology. "Although, I must admit it's strange to date our version of the boogeyman… or woman as the case may be. But our parents never told us they could be sexy, either."

I shook my head at him. "So, I'm a sexy boogeyman?"

"Boogeywoman," he corrected. "And Chloe isn't the only one who figured you were a Grimm. I had my suspicions."

"Right, because everyone just knew."

He pursed his lips as his gaze caught mine. "You taste… different. I mean, your blood… It's like… I dunno how to describe it."

My mind went to Sookie Stackhouse. Maybe Grimm blood was an aphrodisiac to Wesen. Oh, God. Whatever the reason, we didn't need to discuss the taste. No, that was just something we were not going to do at all.

"Okay, there are a few things you just don't say to your girlfriend: You don't tell her that her hair is frizzy, that she's had too much dessert, or that her blood tastes funny." I shook my head.

"Oh, no. It doesn't taste funny," he replied quickly. "It's not a bad thing. Okay, well, maybe it's not such a good thing that it tastes… Umm... It's just so…"

I put a finger to his lips. "Monroe, let's not go there." Holy, crap! We weren't going to talk about my blood like a milkshake flavor.

"Right, okay. No, you're right." He cleared his throat. "I mean, it's not like I've had another Grimm to compare it to or anything. I haven't tasted Nick's blood," he awkwardly chuckled. "I mean, you know, I don't go around just sampling…"

"Monroe," I said. "I can't have this conversation."

"No, I get it. This is not, umm, apropos to talk about, huh?"

"Not at all," I frankly replied.

Monroe gripped his knees, "Sorry. But I am glad you have your answer now."

"I just hope you being with a Grimm doesn't cause any issues."

"Nah. You know, I've been hanging with Nick all these months. So now I just have two of you. I'm getting a collection," he smiled. Just what he needed, another collection.

"The Reapers have already beaten you up because you're hanging out with one. What might they do for dating one? Maybe Nick is right. What if it's dangerous for us to stay together?"

"It's nothing I can't handle, I assure you." A flash of red passed Monroe's eyes and I was back in that squalid hotel room at the airport all over again. Monroe could handle it. He proved it already. But how he had handled it could just stay a mystery to me.

I reached for his arm and leaned into him. "Maybe they'll just leave us alone so you don't have to."

"Yeah, I don't think it works that way," Monroe sighed as he stroked my hair. He lifted up my chin to meet his face. "What do you say we take a trip upstairs…?" He gave me a wink.

"Sure, I could go for a trip upstairs," I replied with a sexy grin.

"Good, because I wanna find those cameras."

"Oh," I murmured, trying not to sound deflated.

* * *

A/N: Poor Monroe. He just doesn't always know when to keep quiet.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

We went upstairs to Monroe's attic.

"Now there's like a spare room I keep up here for guests. Well, not that I get many guests… But, you know, it's good to be prepared," he laughed as I followed him up the stairs. "But then this is also where I store... you know, everything else." I was eager to see what everything else could possibly be.

Monroe opened the door to the attic and it was much nicer than what I anticipated. But with Monroe, of course there would be an order to things. He was mostly organized and I adored him for that. Pictures were displayed on the wood paneled walls and I tried to hold back stopping at each one just to see the details. There was a bed beside the window amidst some boxes and a trunk right in front of that. Yeah, it was definitely suitable for a spare bedroom. We were here to find cameras, so I couldn't stop and be nosy. Well, at least not today.

"I know those cameras have to be over here somewhere," Monroe said while rummaging through some boxes in the far left corner of the room. Four or more large boxes labeled 'Christmas' were stashed against one of the walls, while a few others were labeled 'Halloween.'

"Are you big into the holidays?" I had to ask, pointing out the boxes.

Monroe looked over his shoulder. "Oh, yeah, man. Holidays are kinda my thing. We have a big tradition in my family for Christmas. But, dude. Halloween. Now that's even bigger." He grinned that childlike grin of his as he spoke.

Of course he'd be big into the holidays. But really, Halloween? His birthday was on Halloween, but wouldn't Wesen be a little put off by humans traipsing around in costumes? Usually those costumes were similar to what Wesen looked like. I pictured last Halloween in Kentucky. How many Wolfmen came to our door? Oh, three at least, easily. Did that kind of thing upset him? Maybe I was being the biased one here.

"Halloween, you like that?"

"Oh, yeah. Well, think about it. We get to be what we are without anyone judging us. And I've won a few costume contests, too." Another smile passed his lips. Maybe I was seeing it all wrong. True, Wesen had nothing to hide on a day like that.

Monroe turned back to his boxes and I walked up beside him, helping him move them out one by one.

"I know those cameras have to be in here somewhere," he said almost to himself as we went through boxes of trinkets that I really wanted to ask about. But if I opened that can of worms we'd be up here all night. Monroe never had a problem telling stories.

"Oh wow, now that's my grandmother's rocking chair." He pointed to a chair in the corner. "My grandmother was an awesome lady. We would go on picnics... Oh! I bet that's up here somewhere, too." He moved up and over to another set of boxes. "Well, will you look at that!" he said as he pulled out an old picnic basket.

It was one of those old style, dual-handled woven baskets with a metal latch, and it was covered in dust. He lifted the basket, looking it over with scrutiny as he opened it and admired it from every angle.

Monroe looked up at me while grinning. "Yeah, this was my grandmother's, definitely. This is from the early 1920s." He dusted it off and rubbed the edges with his sleeve. "We used to go on picnics when I was a kid. Well, we'd do other things out in the woods on those picnics, too." He gave me an oddball look. "Umm, but I won't bore you with those kinds of details."

Oh, I'm sure there was more to those trips than just picnics. I tried to shake the thoughts out of my head. Too much info, Mr. Monroe.

"God, I haven't seen this in ages." He seemed lost in thought.

"It's really beautiful," I said as he held it up to the light.

"We oughta go on a picnic sometime," he said brightly with a twinkle in his eye.

"I'd like that," I smiled at him.

Monroe sighed wistfully. "It's been forever since I've done that." He looked up at me with his dark brown eyes.

"Okay, don't judge, but I've never been on an official picnic. Is that bad?"

"Really?" Monroe seemed surprised.

"I've eaten outside, but I've never done it with a blanket and picnic basket."

"Okay, then that settles it. We gotta do one." His grin burst into a big smile and I had to smile, myself. "Oh! Cameras! I almost forgot." Monroe set the basket aside looking through more boxes for the cameras.

"You have so many boxes up here."

"I have a lot of important things, you know?" Oh my. There was more to that story and if I kept asking we really would be up here all night.

"Found it!" Monroe said looking through another box, pulling out an old camera. This one seemed to be the right box. "So, here it is. Olaf's collection." The box was full of old cameras and projectors maybe? I was clueless. "My great-uncle Olaf had so much more than this, but this is what is left. God, this box hasn't been opened in a long time."

He lifted a few cameras out, going over the history of each one. I had to bite my tongue. He was brilliant and knowledgeable. I'd never dated anyone this into facts... Well, okay, maybe Pete. If you could call what we did dating. Pete was brainy, but Monroe... No, Monroe was more than just brainy. He was witty, scatterbrained, and so much the nerd. Given today's attic adventure, Monroe also had a little ADD. I liked the mixture of nerdiness with his randomness. Was there anyone more perfect? Crap, my mind was wandering and Monroe was still talking.

"…so this one was one my mom said my great uncle really loved."

Perhaps I was a little ADD, too.

After going through the entire box Monroe seemed satisfied.

"You have quite a few family relics up here," I stated with a grin.

"Knowing where you're from and what your ancestors did… Well, that is what history is all about," he said with a grin.

I'd received quite a history lesson of my own today… That was for sure.

* * *

A/N: We're finding the cameras and that picnic basket earlier than in the show.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Monroe counted the business cards in his wallet. "So you're sure you're okay with going to another one of these?"

"I'm the one who keeps asking you to go to these art galas, remember?"

He put his wallet in his back pocket while nodding. "And for some reason I'm actually looking forward to going this time. Except for this cold."

I frowned. "You're still feeling bad?"

"It's better, but my senses are still all out of sorts. Must be what a human must feel like." He shook his head then looked up at me. "I mean, umm… If I separated like that I would… Uhh…"

"Don't worry." I flashed him a smile and he seemed to relax. "I knew what you meant."

"Now remember, we gotta leave in time for me to make my meeting tonight."

"We don't have to stay long," I said while putting on my amethyst necklace. The small faceted circles on a silver chain wrapped around my neck. It looked fantastic with my lavender dress. "But there's a piece I'm looking forward to seeing."

He chuckled. "You know, I'm not going for the art."

"You never know. Something might catch your eye."

"Not likely, man, but I'll keep an open mind… for you, though."

"That's the spirit." I smiled while pulling him close. His Old Spice met my nose as my head rested near the collar of his white dress shirt, and I breathed him in. He smelled as good as he looked. I ran my fingers across his black vest and up to his deep purple tie. No plaid or sweatery goodness tonight. We were both looking pretty sophisticated.

Monroe pulled back. "Before we go, I have something for you." His eyes were bright, and the edges crinkled as he flashed his trademark smile. That smile of his was something, for sure. He reached for his black blazer on the couch, removing a gift box from the breast pocket. "For you," he said as he held the box outward.

"For me?" The small black box had an equally small lavender bow on top. "I like the color," I commented, taking the box from his hands.

"I know," he said. "It's why I picked it. Now don't just hold it. Go on… Open it," he coaxed, gesturing his hands out toward the box.

I carefully removed the ribbon from the box and lifted the lid off, peering inside. It was a wristwatch; beautiful, delicate, and quite old. The mesh rope band and the oval face were definitely antique. I lifted it out and grinned as I looked it over.

"It was my grandmother's," Monroe said, and my eyes shot up at him. He was giving me something very personal. This was significant. "When you check the time on your cell phone I get pain right here, man." He held his fist against his heart. "You need a watch, and you deserve something classic. I could think of nothing else but this one."

"I love it, but you shouldn't have… But, oh..." Crap, I was gonna cry. It was just too amazing of a gift.

"Here, let me try it on you." He took the watch from my trembling hands and fastened it on my wrist. "Now this is a manual-wind movement, Hamilton watch from the early '20s. Fourteen carat white gold, 'cause I know you prefer silver, and the diamonds are real. I just replaced the crystal, so it's in perfect working order."

"Monroe, this is too much." The watch sparkled on my wrist, and I was completely in awe.

"It suits you." Monroe lifted my chin. "So, will you promise me that you'll stop checking the clock on that damn cell phone of yours?"

"Yes," I said emphatically. "Thank you!" I wrapped my arms around his neck.

He kissed me, and I held him tightly. "So, I guess we need to go," he said between kisses.

I stopped and looked down at my new watch, pointing to the time. "Right, yes. Time to go."

I grabbed my black dress jacket and handbag while Monroe put on his blazer. We walked down the steps toward Monroe's VW.

"Entre," Monroe said as he opened the car door.

"Je vous remercie pour l'hospitalité." I winked at him as I settled into the car.

"Okay, let's stick to the French I might actually know."

"But this is more fun." I bit my lip. Sexy brain or not, knowing something Monroe didn't was kind of fun.

He shook his head and closed my car door. "Careful, or we'll have whole conversations in German," he chided as he slid into the driver's seat and buckled his seat belt.

"It'll be a short conversation," I replied with a teasing grin.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

As we headed toward Imago Art Space on Northwest 9th Avenue in the Pearl District, I kept glancing at my watch.

"We're going to be early," said Monroe. "Don't fret or anything."

"Huh? Oh, no. I'm not worried about the time. I'm just admiring it."

"Ah. You act like you've never had a watch before."

"I think the last time I wore one I was twelve, and it had Mickey Mouse on the face," I sheepishly told Monroe.

He grimaced. "Well, nothing against Disney, but this is a bit more high quality."

I nodded. High quality and a family heirloom. A Blutbad family heirloom… given to a Grimm. "Do you think your family would have a problem with you giving this to someone like… me?"

"Hey, now." Monroe reached for my wrist. "You mean more to me than anything, and I want you to have this. It doesn't matter what you are. No separating, remember?"

"You know what I mean, Monroe," I said softly.

"I do, which is why you don't need to be thinking that way," he chided. "Besides, my grandmother was more lenient than my nana ever was. If she knew I was in…" He stopped, pursing his lips tightly and then turned toward the road. "If she knew how incredibly happy you make me, then being a Grimm wouldn't be an issue."

I reached up and lightly ran my fingers through his beard. "You make me incredibly happy, too." If that was what we were using instead of the crazy 'L' word tonight, then I'd go along with it.

We arrived at the gallery moments later. Even though we were early, there were already quite a few people inside. Madame Dazzles caught my eye immediately. She had a new set of bookends tonight. Were they like accessories, interchangeable like a pair of earrings? I pictured her pulling two women out of an expansive closet along with her dress, and I suppressed a chuckle. But that dress. Hers was an elegant crème gown that clung to her body like it was created right on her to fit every part. With her, perhaps it could've been.

Natalie walked up to greet us with a huge smile. "Renée and Monroe, so glad you both could come out!" She was wearing the dress she had brought over, and the alterations had given it a perfect length. It fit her beautifully.

I grinned back at her. "Well, look at you, Miss Red Carpet."

She did a quick twirl. "I can't stop smiling. I just love this dress," she gushed. She looked me over. "But that one is beautiful, Renée. Is that from Sandra's?"

"I wouldn't buy from anyone else."

"She's over by her piece. Oh, it's even better than her last one." She turned to Monroe. "So how were you the next day after yoga?"

"Just fine." Monroe chuckled. "You know, that guy's version of yoga was a bit too easy for me to feel it later."

"Monroe does Bikram," I proudly said.

"Wow!" Natalie's eyes lit up. "Gosh, then no wonder it was so easy for you. I knew you did Pilates. Renée has gone on and on about how awesome you are at that, but she hadn't mentioned the Bikram before."

"On and on, huh?" Monroe flashed me a quick smirk.

"Well she… umm…" Natalie knew she'd said too much again. If she were Wesen, then she did a great job at keeping that a secret, since she wasn't good at keeping her mouth shut about anything else. She looked up at me with her green eyes. Green eyes?

"Did you get more colored contacts?" I asked, switching the subject.

"I did! What do you think?" she asked pensively.

"It looks good," I replied.

"The green looks better with my hair, right?" she continued. The green was bold and darker than my own. It definitely brought out her hair, but that was already pretty bold to begin with. "Most guys find red hair looks better with green eyes." She turned to Monroe. "What do you think? Is that true?"

"Umm, well, I am partial to green eyes." He winked at me and squeezed my hand. "And the Irish would say that's a good combo, but if you like it, then that's what matters."

I beamed at my boyfriend. He was beyond awesome. I couldn't have said it better myself.

"Thanks, Monroe." Natalie seemed to appreciate his input, and she nodded at his words. "Oh, you two must come with me!" she exclaimed. "I want you to meet a few people from _The Oregonian_."

"Sure," I replied, "but maybe in a moment though, if that's okay?"

"Yeah, of course," she said with a wave of her hand. "Look around and enjoy yourselves. I'll meet back with you soon."

As Natalie walked off, I glanced up at Monroe giving him a look.

"What?" Monroe asked.

"Well?" I widened my eyes, darting them toward Natalie and then back to him.

"Oh." He raised his eyebrows. "Uh, I didn't think to check."

"Can you?" I asked, as we pretended to look at one of the paintings.

"Like, sniff her here?" he hissed at me. "Right now?"

"When you say it that way, it sounds bad."

"I can try," Monroe relented. "But we've got to move this way." I followed Monroe as he snuck around one of the sculptures in the center of the gallery. We both spotted Natalie, who was moving around the room, hugging this person and that. "Man, she's going to smell like everyone in here." Monroe crossed his arms." I know there's Wesen around, but I'm not gonna be able to tell who's who with a crowd like this and with how my nose has been."

"No, it's fine." I frowned slightly. "It doesn't matter if she is or isn't."

"I know you want to know," he whispered in reply. "Besides, we typically reveal ourselves out of courtesy, and she… well, _she_ hasn't."

I looked up at him. "So, she isn't one, then?"

"Well, not necessarily. She might have picked up on what I am, and she's cloaking herself. Wouldn't be the first time a Wesen hasn't wanted a Blutbad to know what they are." Monroe chuckled as he added, "Not that it usually matters." He pointed to his nose, but then he sneezed. "Well, when it's working right."

"Do you want to look around with me?"

"Yeah, may as well."

"While we're here, I want you to meet Sandra. Now she _is_ a…" I trailed off and let my eyes finish the sentence.

Monroe nodded slowly. "Does she know about you?"

"No. I've kept it under wraps."

Monroe's eyebrows went up again. "Well, I mean, I don't want to cause any issues."

I reached for his arm as we walked toward the paintings. "It should be fine."

"Famous last words, man," he replied with a sigh.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Time passed as we roamed the gallery. Lydia had a knack for aesthetics, I had to admit. The exhibits were arranged very well, and we took our time, admiring the pieces, hand in hand. Okay, so I admired them while Monroe scrutinized them. When I'd comment on a piece, Monroe would roll his eyes and mumble something about what one of the 'greats' would think. Even with Monroe's quips and remarks, I still enjoyed being out, all dressed up with my boyfriend by my side.

Sandra Bilka was talking to a man in double breasted suit as we approached her. "Renée!" she said, and I hugged her. She took a moment to look me over. "I may need to borrow you to do some modeling. I swear my dresses look fantastic on you."

"Thanks." I grinned at her. "I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Monroe." I gestured a hand in his direction.

"Symphony?" she asked in a hushed voice.

I nodded quickly.

"Nice to meet you." She smiled up at Monroe as her squirrel features came out briefly. "I'm Sandra Bilka."

"Nice to meet you," he nervously replied. Hesitating, he rocked on his heels, but then he quickly let his features emerge.

She looked quickly at me as her eyes widened, but I held my ignorant, blank stare. She gave Monroe a discerning look, but she didn't utter a word about it.

I glanced up at the wall. "So, is this the new piece?"

"Yeah," she said in a daze as she gathered her thoughts. "_A Tree for All Seasons_."

Four trees in stages of the seasons were painted beautifully across the canvas. It started with branches, sprouting small sprigs of leaves, to a second one of lush foliage, then scarlet red leaves, and finally barren branches dusted with snow. The painting called to me, and I thought about home and my perfect Zen in the woods. The blue-gray sky coupled with the red would match my living room perfectly. I really wanted this piece.

"Sandra it's just wonderful. Has it sold yet?" I asked eagerly. "I love it!"

"Not yet, but it's still early."

"It's very… fluid," said Monroe as he gave her a half-smile. Well, at least he was being polite.

Sandra returned his smile. "Thank you," she said, but her voice was tight. Another gentleman in a blue jacket approached and she took his hand.

"We won't keep you," I told Sandra. "It was good to see you." She nodded and went back to talking.

"I'm going to buy it," I told Monroe when we were out earshot.

"What?" He looked behind us then at me again. "That one?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "I need to find Lydia Swift to arrange it. She shouldn't be too hard to find."

Monroe made a face. "You sure you want that one?"

"The trees are beautiful. Besides, you think it's 'fluid.'" I gave him a smirk.

"I was just being nice," he retorted.

"Well, it was appreciated."

"How about we find the open bar before you start shelling out money?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

We headed to the bar, and Monroe picked us out a wine.

"Have you tried Spätburgunder before?" he asked.

I raised the glass to my lips. "No, first time."

"This grape belongs to oldest varieties, originating from wild vines in Middle Europe and was first introduced into Germany in the late ninth century." He held his glass up, taking a sip. "Yeah, that's a damn fine wine. Full bodied, with a hint of blackberry, yet smooth… and free," he added with a grin.

"Free does taste better," I replied, returning his grin. "You haven't mentioned business cards yet. Are you going to do any business tonight?"

"Oh, I've got my eye on a few people." He turned toward the crowd. "So, I've got an Arly at five o'clock over there, and a woman wearing a vintage Elgin at nine o'clock."

I focused my gaze where he was motioning with his eyes. Was it redundant to use time to point out timepieces? With Monroe, it was probably just a typical day. "So, you want to go over there?"

"I'll be balance wheeling and dealing here soon enough." He looked at my puzzled expression. "Sorry, clock joke. Balance wheels are part of the movement where… Never mind. I'll just show you sometime."

I shook my head at him and grinned. "Can't wait."

While I people watched, Monroe watch watched as we sipped on our wine.

Natalie came back up to me. "There you guys are!" She looked over to Monroe. "Mind if I steal Renée for a moment?"

"Steal away. I'm going to go… mingle." He gave me a knowing look, and I nodded.

Natalie took me by the hand as Monroe set off toward the woman with the vintage watch.

"I think the contacts lenses are working," she said. "See that guy over there in the tan jacket?"

I nonchalantly turned my head toward a guy around my age with a toothy grin that reminded me of Nick's. He wasn't strikingly handsome, as I was expecting from the type of guys Natalie leaned toward, but he wasn't bad looking either. Just kind of average.

"I got a date next weekend," she said excitedly. "He even mentioned how pretty my eyes were. Gosh, I should've bought contact years ago."

"But your hazel eyes are pretty, too."

"I tried to find a shade that was like yours," she replied, ignoring what I'd said. "Your eyes are just, like, the perfect color green."

"Thanks," I replied. It was useless talking her out of this eye color idea.

"So, did you get to see Sandra's piece yet?" she asked.

"Yeah, I did. You're right. It's fantastic. Actually, I think I'm going to buy it."

"You better hurry then, because there was a guy that was talking it over with Lydia not too long ago."

"Oh," I said. "Well, I don't want to lose it."

"I think I might get one tonight, too. Come see!"

"Okay, but…" Before I could suggest seeing Lydia, she dragged me over to the other side of the gallery. In front of us was a large canvas with splashes of color that made up the cityscape of Seattle. The space needle was the only thing I recognized.

Natalie looked up at the painting. "It's a perfect depiction, and it reminds me of home. Gosh, I'm going to miss coming to these."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, you didn't hear?" She turned back to me. "This is Lydia's last one. She accepted the position as the new curator at the Portland Museum. She's been telling everyone, so I thought you knew already."

"No," I replied. "First I've heard about it."

"She's pretty excited. It's something she's wanted to do for some time."

"So, she can't do both?"

"I'm sure she could, but she still has her gallery in Vancouver to maintain. She's letting one of her associates take over the local Portland groups." Natalie pointed over to Madame Dazzles and her Bookends. "Johnna Smallwood, the one on the left. She's the lucky lady that Lydia chose."

Bookend One was quite young, with long, charcoal locks and ivory skin even paler than my own. She was already working on her faux smile as she stood closely near Madame Dazzles, mimicking her every move.

"From what I've heard," Natalie continued, "if she does well with the local part, Lydia is going to give her some of the bigger names to start working with. With those kinds of connections, she could own her own gallery by the time she's thirty. Can you imagine?"

I nodded. "Sounds like a dream come true." I tried to be polite, but my tone didn't. "Do you mind if we go over there? I want to talk to Lydia about Sandra's painting."

"Sure. We can both set up our purchases. I'm getting that Seattle one."

As we approached Madame Dazzles, she acknowledged us with a faux smile on her stunning face. She was wearing a sparkling watch on her right wrist. Rolex or Cartier perhaps? It was something equally expensive, for sure. Maybe Monroe could make some business off her, too. If only I had one of his cards with me.

"Renée, correct?" she asked with a nod. Still no handshake. Just a nod. Her Bookends silently stood by her without a word.

"Yes." What a surprise she remembered my name. "Good to see you again."

"So glad you could attend." Her voice drew out all grandiose. I waited for the violins to begin to play.

I smiled wide. "I hear congratulations are in order."

She nodded again. "Thank you. Yes. I take over at the museum on Monday." Her even tone was anything but excited. Perhaps this _was_ her excited tone. "Johnna will be hosting the next event." She turned to Bookend One, whose face lit up like she'd just been called down to _The Price is Right_. If she was going to take over for Lydia, she'd have to learn to look less alive.

"Renée Davenport," I said, ignoring the lack of formal introductions. "Nice to meet you."

"Johnna Smallwood, pleasure." Her blue eyes brightened. They were the same shade as Lydia's. Maybe she referred everyone to her optometrist. Johanna extended her hand. Wow, this one knew what a handshake was. I took it warmly and she smiled. Her finger snagged on my ring, and she had a brief woge into a Waschbar as she jolted her hand back.

"I'm so sorry." My face remained smooth, but I hadn't expected that one. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, it's fine." She held up her finger. "Just a scratch."

"Renée is a financial trainer, and she's from Louisville, Kentucky," said Natalie, who seemed happy fill in the introductions. "They have that Derby there."

I nodded slowly. Right, because that was the _only_ thing we were famous for. How many times had I used that same line since I'd moved here? Otherwise, I'd get a blank stare. I refrained from shaking my head.

Natalie went on to mention our yoga connection, and for some reason, she mentioned my love for music. "Renée knows, like, every song lyric there is. She's amazing." Natalie paused as Lydia had a bored-to-tears expression on her flawless face.

I glanced over at Bookend Two, who was standing uncomfortably still. Not to be rude, I extended my hand toward her. She glanced awkwardly and looked toward Madame Dazzles, as if asking permission to speak. Madame Dazzles just blinked at her. She took my hand.

"And you are?" I asked.

"Frieda… Frieda Tuckerman." Her voice came out shakily, and she quickly retracted her hand. Her brown eyes looked down. Maybe that had been too much interaction for her.

"So, Lydia," I said, turning my focus back. "Has anyone purchased Sandra Bilka's painting yet?"

"There was someone who inquired, but he didn't seem too committed," she replied dryly. "Why?" her tone changed. "Are you interested?"

"Yes, actually."

"Wonderful!" She drew out the word. "I'll make the arrangements."

"I'd like to purchase the one by Andrew McKeon," Natalie piped up, pointing to the Seattle piece behind us.

"Two purchases. Delightful." Madame Dazzles' faux smile burst forth, and she stepped away from her bookends as she took us to finalize the transactions.

"There are a few forms to sign," Madame Dazzles said as she continued to write on one form while reaching for more forms with her right hand. She was quite the multi-tasker. I added that comment to my 'nice things' mental filing cabinet.

Fifteen minutes later, I was the proud owner of a Sandra Bilka original. Madame Dazzles said she'd have it ready for pick-up later on this week.

"Sandra, your painting sold!" She led us over to where Sandra was standing.

When Sandra turned she grinned at me. "You're my buyer?" she asked.

I nodded. "I told you I loved it."

"Thanks!" She beamed as her squirrel features flourished out.

I reached over and gave Sandra a hug as she retracted, and then I turned back to Madame Dazzles, who looked down her nose at me. Hugging must be taboo. I simply smiled back at her. Lydia Swift was swiftly getting on my nerves. I wouldn't let her know that, though.

"Natalie, let's give Mr. McKeon the good news about his piece," she stated, reaching for her elbow. Natalie and Lydia walked away as Lydia took her for a hug-free meeting of her artist.

Sandra's expression became serious once we were alone. "Your boyfriend… seems nice." She tugged at her fingers.

"He's a wonderful guy."

"Does he… treat ya well?" she asked with a bit of hesitation in her voice.

I gave her a knowing look. "Sandra, contrary to what you've heard, he's not of the big and bad variety."

Her eyes widened, and I remained quiet as it sank in what I'd just told her. It wasn't best to have Wesen knowing what I was, but this was my boutique girl. What harm could it do? She had another woge, and I smiled at her with a small nod.

She bit her lip, looking at me all bewildered as she retracted. "So, you're a…?"

"And contrary to what you've heard, I'm not bad either."

Surprisingly she smiled at this. "Wow… A Grimm?" she whispered.

I nodded again, and for the first time I could honestly say, "Yes." I put my finger to my lips. "Will you keep my secret?"

She nodded quickly. "No one would believe me if I told them."

I pulled a pen and a card from my handbag and jotted down my phone number. "Call me, and I'll tell you more. I trust you, Sandra."

She took the card and stuck it in her clutch.

"Renée," Natalie said behind me, and I turned. "You ought to meet Andrew." Sandra waved me on, and Natalie took me by the hand. As we walked away, I held back a grin. It felt good that Sandra knew.

"Lydia said that Johnna is taking over immediately, so I won't have to miss out on these galas. Gosh, I'm just thrilled!"

"That's great!" I replied as we walked toward a tall man with a handlebar moustache.

"When I find out the date of the next one, I'll be sure to let you know."

"Wouldn't miss it," I replied while biting the inside of my cheek.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

After meeting Andrew and a few more artists, I reached for my cell phone to check the time, but then stopped and looked at my wrist. Ten till eight. Oh, we needed to get going.

"Natalie, I'm going to have to head out. Monroe has an appointment, and I promised we'd leave in time for him to get there."

"Sure, no problem. I'm happy you guys came out tonight. Too bad you didn't get to meet my friends from work."

"Some other time, perhaps," I replied. "Good luck with your date."

"Oh, I'll keep you updated," she assured me.

After giving Natalie a quick hug, I scanned the gallery until I found Monroe. He was handing his business card to a guy wearing a large, gold watch. I approached as he was telling him, "No timepiece too big or too small."

"It's almost eight," I told Monroe as the guy walked off.

"Wow, already?" Monroe replied, looking at his watch. "Man, we probably should get going. I need time to change. I'm not going to my meeting like this." He pointed down at his tie.

"So, how did the business cards go?"

He grinned. "Really well. I passed out maybe ten or fifteen. I already have two confirmed gigs for some maintenance work."

"Hey, that's good. You're making money, and I'm spending it."

"You wound up buying that one painting, huh?"

"Yeah, and I did a bit more than that."

Monroe looked curiously at me. "You bought more than one?"

"No, not exactly," I replied as we walked out the door. "I'll tell you in the car."

* * *

A/N: So... Sandra knows about Renée!


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

"You sure that was a smart idea?" Monroe asked after I told him about Sandra. "Nussesser are Chatty Cathys, man. Especially the women. You get a few of them together, and it's like one of those sewing circles, you know? They aren't the type to keep secrets."

"Well, she was a bit concerned about you, and she's harmless. I like Sandra, and keeping this from her has been really difficult. I trust she can keep this kind of secret."

"What about Natalie? You gonna tell her, too?"

"She still hasn't had a woge, so I don't know what to do about that, yet." I sighed. "When she came up to us at the bar did you pick up on anything?"

"Nah, she smelled like a few different ones. Once this cold clears up, I'll be able to tell for sure."

"Well, if she is, then I'll probably let her know, too."

"That low profile isn't going to be very low if you keep this up," Monroe warned.

"I know, but I'm not flaunting it to just anyone. It'll be all right."

"Okay," Monroe unconvincingly said. "Just be careful about it."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Once we arrived back to my house, Monroe walked me to my door.

"So, umm, the meeting might be a few hours long. I'll call you when I'm done, and I'll come over here tonight… I mean, if that's okay?"

Sure that's fine." I smiled at him. "I'm working from home tomorrow, so I can stay up late."

"Good, 'cause it might be past midnight when I return."

"Will that give you enough time to do your routine in the morning?"

"Yeah, it'll be fine." He kissed my forehead. "I'll pack the reformer in the car."

"I could just meet you at your place. I'd hate for you to go to all that trouble."

"It's no trouble. I'll bring it over and maybe you can wake up and do a little Pilates with me?" His puppy dog eyes emerged. How could I say no to that?

I grinned up at him as I lingered in the doorway. "Okay, deal."

After Monroe left, I showered and changed into something less fancy. As I settled on the couch my cell rang. It was Nick.

"Hello?" I asked with uncertainty.

"Renée. Hey. What are you and Monroe doing tonight? He's not answering his phone."

"Monroe is meeting a few friends tonight, and I'm about to catch up on _Jeopardy_."

"Huh," he replied. "Well, would you mind helping me tonight? How's your German?"

"Uh, I took one semester, but I'm better at French," I said. "Is your Google Translate not working?"

"Google Translate?"

"Yeah. You just go to Google. There's an English-to-German translator."

"Oh… Well, I really don't…" he trailed off.

I suppressed a sigh. "I have a few hours to kill before Monroe returns. I'll bring my laptop and what I can't decipher, Google will."

"Okay, then. I'll see you here soon. And make sure you're not being followed. Monroe knows that, but since you…"

"I can handle it, Nick," I assured him.

"Good. Make sure that you do."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

I cautiously drove the streets to the seedy parking lot on Northwest 17th Avenue, watching for any suspicious cars behind me. Sure enough, there wasn't anyone trying to follow me to the secret clubhouse.

Monroe had been right. This place was even creepier in the dark. I parked as close as I could to the trailer and cautiously exited the car. Fortunately I only had to knock once, and Nick opened the door quickly. I went inside and set down my computer bag on the trailer bed. Not only had I brought my laptop, but I'd also brought my portable scanner. I wanted a better copy of my family tree.

"So, I'm trying to get a few of these pages figured out on Mordstiers. Some of it is in English, but the rest…" He held his hands up. "I don't know."

Nick pointed to his chair behind the desk. I edged toward the chair, hovering slightly.

"It's fine, Renée. Have at it."

"Okay." I sat down and surveyed the page in front of me. "There isn't much German on here. Most of this is already in English. Massive horns and skin that's thicker than body armor. That's pretty accurate."

Nick came over and pointed to a German section. "But what is this?"

"Hmm… It's relating Mordstiers to Taureus-Armenta and the ancient Minotaurs," I said, "but let's use Google to translate this next part, because it's beyond me."

I loaded my laptop and typed in the text as Nick watched.

I angled the laptop where Nick could read. "Here we go: 'The Mordstier dates back to an ancient race of Minotaur. Minotaurs spread out from their home island to explore the world. In the neighboring lands of Midgard, Hibernia, and Albion they came in contact with the fledgling kingdoms of man. They left only vague impressions on the men they encountered, sparking tales of bull gods and horned men, but making no solid ties. Like Minotaurs, Mordstiers prefer to live underground and limit contact with their surrounding areas.'"

"Wow." Nick's blue-green eyes widened with surprise. "That was fast."

"The power of Google," I replied with a grin. "The only thing I can't get a translation on is the reference to Taureus-Armenta. The words themselves are Latin for 'Bull Herd,' but I can't tell if they mean it's a relation to the Mordstier, or if it's another term for the Mordstier. I've never heard of a Taureus-Armenta, but it doesn't mean there couldn't be one out there. But I also never realized Mordstiers were the burrowing types." I shook my head. "Although, I've only seen two or three, so perhaps that's why."

"You've seen a Mordstier?"

I nodded. "Yeah, and many other Wesen. So, this one you saw yesterday… What happened?"

"We had a guy in on a B and E that turned into one, but he wouldn't talk to me once he sensed I could see him. Although, I wasn't sure exactly what he was at the time to say much of anything. When I couldn't reach you guys, I came here on lunch and located the Wesen name. Monroe was able to fill in some of the gaps once he finally answered his phone."

"Did being Wesen make a difference as to why he was arrested?"

"Well, not exactly."

I tilted my head slightly. "So, it wasn't really all that important that you knew what he was?"

"Well, it might have been important."

"But you just said it wasn't."

Nick scowled at me. He didn't seem to like where my questions were leading. "I may need to know for future reference."

"No, that I get, but you didn't need to call when most of your answers were here in this book."

"It took a while to find that book."

"There isn't an index?"

"Renée, they're journals. It's all random."

I glanced at my laptop. My organizational mind was spinning like a top. It definitely didn't have to be random.

"May I look at the rest of this book?" I asked.

Nick shrugged. "Sure."

I thumbed through the pages. Random didn't begin to describe it. There was no rhyme or reason why a Mordstier would come before a Siegbarste. I shook my head.

"So how many books are in here?" I asked, continuing to turn pages.

"A few dozen or so. Maybe more."

I stopped as my eyes shot up. "You don't know?"

"I keep finding things as I go along. Some books were hidden behind shelves," he said and opened a cabinet, "while others were stored in here with the film. They're all over this trailer." It reminded me of my notebooks at the old apartment.

Nick's cell rang as I was about to ask more.

"Burkhardt," he said. "Great. Yeah I can be there in twenty." He hung up quickly. "I need to go follow up on lead with this Japanese exhibit case we've been working on."

I stood abruptly. "Well, I hope I was some help."

Nick paused like he was thinking. "I'm coming back here afterwards. If you want to stay and translate some more, that would be a big help."

I held back my giddiness. "Yeah. I could do that. Do you think it's safe here with what might be out there?" I could already envision Monroe emphatically shaking his head, 'no.'

"Yeah, I've never been followed here. And you _did_ watch to make sure you weren't followed, correct?"

"Yes. I took the long way here and kept an eye out."

"I shouldn't be gone more than an hour or so."

I sat back down in the chair. "Okay, then I'll get to work."

Nick gave me a toothy grin. "Good. I'll be back soon. I'm locking the trailer door, so don't try to leave."

"Okay." I smiled and gave a small wave of my hand.

After Nick had left, a big grin spread across my face. I had permission to research, organize, and translate. This was my version of Christmas!

* * *

A/N: Ooh, Renée is getting to hit the books.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

The next hour I was like a machine. I was transcribing and entering data into my laptop effortlessly, translating as I went. Why hadn't I thought of doing this with my own notebooks? It was so much easier to read than on paper. But my notebooks looked nothing like these. Mine were organized already. These were a hodgepodge of descriptions, cures, weapons, and potions. It was a mess. And then to add to the chaos were all the different languages. Some pages would switch from English to German right in the middle. And there was more than just German. French, Latin, Spanish, and even some Japanese were written out in these texts. Grimms seemed to span almost every continent.

I pulled out a large, maroon book labeled _Blutbaden_ in gold foil lettering on its spine. How much information could there be on Blutbaden to fill it up? I bit the inside of my cheek as I opened it. The large sketch of a Blutbad in full woge was prominently displayed on the first page. Someone had colored in the eyes a deep red, adding to its malevolent countenance. The next few pages gave the illustrations of the anatomy and of Blutbaden ripping and tearing humans to shreds. The graphic depictions ran a chill up my spine.

Eagerly, I searched for info about full moons, but the only references were embedded in the German texts. I could interpret portions of it, but the sentences didn't make any sense. I must not have been translating as well as I thought. Even Google Translate wasn't shedding any light. I sighed aloud. Monroe could read it just fine, but it would defeat the purpose to ask, 'Hey, Honey. Could you translate this German text about your ancestors, so I can understand what you mean by a full moon doesn't sit well with you?' Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

I began to read the parts in English. Some pages gave basic knowledge; Blutbaden were often violent in packs, especially when they saw red. Blutbaden had burning red eyes, their fingernails would extend into long, curving claws, and their rows of teeth became sharp and pointed. These things I knew intimately. There was a side-note about the color red:

_The sight of red produces rage and a desire for bloodshed.__  
__If the color is worn, it instigates a need in the Blutbad__  
__to rip the throat and devour the wearer._

**_WEAR AT YOUR OWN PERIL!_**

The warning at the bottom of the page was scrawled out in bold letters with red ink. There was too much irony in that ink color. I was half-tempted to add in there that red could cause the Blutbad to devour the wearer in a whole other way. That night of passion in Kentucky sure included some devouring. I slightly blushed at the thought. Red was definitely Monroe's favorite color. But the amount of restraint that it must've taken to prevent the other things, especially with his relapses… Well, that still scared the crap out of me. Did he have to worry about control when he was with another Blutbad? What if continued sex with Monroe became a daunting task to maintain control? I pushed the negative thoughts aside and kept on reading.

Several pages further had some noteworthy info on the Blutbad olfactory system.

_A Blutbad's sense of smell can only be weakened by an herb called Aconitum Lycoctonum (Wolfsbane). This herb is native to Europe and Northern Asia. Poisonous if ingested, but effective topically to mask the human scent. Applying this herb will confuse Blutbad senses, allowing the opportunity to move in closer to their territory. Aconitum Lycoctonum seems to have no physical adverse effects when applied topically on Blutbaden._

Interesting to know. I added the facts to my mental filing cabinet. Not that I would find any of the herb here, since it wasn't indigenous to North America, but it was interesting nonetheless.

I leafed through more information and came across a section on weaknesses.

_When Blutbaden woge, it sets off a shift in muscle placement with an increase of musculature surrounding the upper lumbar area while leaving the lower lumbar vertebrae entirely vulnerable and exposed. Herein contains a cluster of nerve endings that when struck by blunt force, can incapacitate the Wesen. The pain appears debilitating and allows time to escape or to kill. Be warned, this only disables the Wesen temporarily! Haste must be made before it is able to move again! To ensure death, the Doppel-armbrust, crafted distinctively to hunt Blutbaden, must be used to poison them._

Hmm… So, there was a physical weakness. To the left was another anatomical drawing with the nerves outlined. Another fact added to my mental filing cabinet. I doubted I'd need to use that knowledge, but it never hurt to know. What the heck was a Doppel-armbrust? It didn't sound like anything I wanted to have to use. Doppel meant double. That I understood pretty easily. Armbrust? I had no clue. I Google'd to find the full translation as a double crossbow. Right, because a single crossbow just wouldn't be enough? Well, if it was designed specifically for Blutbaden, then perhaps it wasn't.

Throughout the rest of the book more stories were written about evil Blutbaden and the long history of enmity against the Grimms. It was like reading the text messages I'd been receiving since I brought Monroe to Louisville. Even back in the day there were many warnings about the terrible Blutbad. I shook my head. Nothing was mentioned about Wieder, and I laughed sarcastically. Of course not. Why would the Grimms write about anything good? The next few pages had some side notes that seemed newly written about Wieder. Those had to be from Nick. At least future generations would know there were some good Blutbaden out there, too.

I thumbed through more pages and stopped on the section of Blutbad mating.

_Like most wolves, Blutbaden mate for life. During their period of courtship, the male and female Blutbad will become very inseparable, staying in close proximity almost all of the time, even while they are sleeping. The Blutbad mating process is different from typical wolf mating and involves the male engaging in a chase of the female to show dominance. If the female is captured, then the male takes the female from behind and brands her with his bite at the base of her neck, marking her as his own. This prevents other Blutbaden from mating with her. Similar to wolves, this process happens in the winter months, before spring._

I read the passage three times, my eyes wider each time I read the words. Oh, holy hell! So, Kentucky in the woods… Was this what we did? Was this why it wasn't a game to Monroe? No wonder he wanted me to stay over all the time.

I sighed loudly as I shut the book. That was all the Blutbad info I wanted to read for today.

Clearing my thoughts, I went back to other Wesen translations. So many of these were in German, and I was doing what I could to translate, but even Google wasn't much help when it came to the… What had Monroe called it? High German? If only I'd learned more of that language. French had been so natural, but German just wouldn't stick in my brain. I'd always found that odd. I didn't have a photographic memory, but it was pretty darn close. The German should've been easier to learn since it was similar to English. I continued with rough translations, but Monroe was better suited for this kind of thing.

My database was growing as I organized the material in the books to the computer. The trailer door creaked open, and I shot my eyes up. Nick was standing by the door. Time had escaped me, and I glanced at my watch.

"What are you working on?" Nick asked as he remained by the door, hovering. "And why are you listening to that song?"

"This one is a classic," I grinned. Annie Lennox was playing on my MP3 player through the laptop.

"_Sweet dreams are made of these.__  
__Who am I to disagree…"_

I sang the words. It had a great beat for running.

"Oh, I know the song, unfortunately. Would you please turn it off?" Nick asked with annoyance. I stopped my MP3 player, and he sat down on the trailer bed.

"What's wrong with it?" I questioned, trying not to grumble.

Nick told me the rest of the story about the Postman Blutbad and the unfortunate events at the local college. His retelling was more graphic than the drawings of Blutbaden I'd seen earlier. "That damn song reminds me of that case," he said while closing his eyes briefly.

I nodded. I really didn't want to hear that song again either after that, to be honest.

Nick opened his eyes and asked, "So what are you working on?"

"I've been categorizing the different Wesen into this database," I told Nick as he stood up and moved closer to the desk.

"Categorizing?" he asked with a tilt of his head as he looked toward my laptop.

"Yeah. So now you can type in keywords, and Voila! Your Wesen comes up."

"Really?" Nick seemed bemused as he stepped forward.

I rotated the screen in his direction. "Okay. Let's say you see a new Wesen, and you know they have fangs." I typed in the word 'fangs' on the search bar. "See, we have twenty-two Wesen with fangs from the books. Wanna go further? How about felines with fangs?" I typed some more. Nick was completely engrossed. "That narrows the search to nine."

"So, what if I want to choose one?" Nick asked.

I clicked on one of the choices. "Here, this one is Mauvais Dentes. French instead of German," I noted almost to myself. "Mauvais Dentes is French for 'bad teeth.'" I scrolled down the page. "Oh, he looks vicious," I commented as the sketch from the Grimm book appeared on the screen.

"You have the pages scanned in?" He glanced over at my portable scanner on the desk.

"Well, some of them. It'll take some time to complete the database. When I'm done it'll be like a… Grimm Google." I smiled proudly. My organizational skills were skyrocketing in the trailer. All these books could be archived and ready to view with a touch of a button.

"That's incredible, Renée!" Nick said as he tried a few for himself.

"Now if you still want to use the books, which I can understand because I'm partial to paper myself, the record tells you the book and the page to find it. I've organized them on the shelf over there.

Nick looked a little dumbfounded as he surveyed the row of books.

"I haven't gotten far with this project, so if you hate it I understand." I waited to see his reaction.

"No, it's impressive!" Nick went back to pressing buttons on the laptop. "I just never thought of going about it this way."

"Fortunately, I have a good memory, so I'm quickly learning all these new Wesen. These books are so…"

"Fascinating." Nick finished my sentence, and I nodded. The history in these archives was beyond anything Chloe and I had shared.

We spent an hour going over records, and I was typing away into the computer as we went along.

"Hey, have you found a record on Schneetmachers?" I asked, reviewing my notes.

"No, and I've looked before." Nick shook his head. "Monroe mentioned them once. He said something about them being savages."

"My friend mentioned them one time and Monroe did, too. I have no clue what they are."

Nick shrugged. "Maybe we'll find something while we're looking. Oh, but look what I did find!" said Nick as he pulled out a bottle of Jose Cuervo from one of the cabinets behind the desk. "I never knew Aunt Marie was a drinker." He chuckled and wiped the dust off with his hand.

I grinned. "Sometimes you need a little nip during a long night of research."

"Guess so." Nick looked it over, shaking his head.

"How old is that bottle?" I asked. The label was faded on the front. "Are you sure there isn't some potion mixed in there?" I didn't trust any liquids in this trailer.

"It's unopened." Nick grinned. "Maybe it was a good year?"

I laughed at him. "I don't think tequila works like wine."

"Let's try it and see," Nick decided, opening the bottle. I couldn't say no to tequila.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Countless passes of the bottle later I was trashed. Absolutely trashed.

"…and then I'm trying to call him from the hospital, and the first words out of his mouth are that he had more info on that watch. Monroe is so over the top sometimes," Nick laughed as he took another swig and passed the Cuervo back to me. I had no clue how much I had drunk, and frankly, I was in no position to really care.

"Monroe's brain is like…. It's like a machine…" I giggled and leaned my head back against the weapons cabinet. We were both sitting next to each other on the floor. I took another drink and handed it back off to Nick.

"I get the feeling you hate me," Nick said out of the blue.

I turned my head to look at him. "Hate you? No… I don't hate you, umm, exactly," I responded, trying to find a better way to say it, but the alcohol was clouding my words. "You frustrate me. It's like… It's like you enjoy interrogating and snapping at me."

"You lied to me the first month I knew you." He scoffed and took another drink. "If you'd just tell me the truth, I wouldn't have to question you. I am trying to trust you, but you make it difficult with all your secrets."

"You're secretive, too. Your girlfriend and your partner have no clue... You're no different, Nick," I reminded him with a satisfied grin. "You don't need to know everything about me," I said, grabbing the tequila bottle from him and having another drink. "Besides, that first month I was trying to trust you, too. Just when I felt comfortable, you'd go back to giving me the third degree." I handed him back the bottle.

"I knew you were hiding something," Nick mumbled taking another sip and passing it back to me. "It doesn't take a detective long to figure these things out."

I gave him a sly grin. "But you didn't know _what_ I was hiding."

"But if you had just told me… It would've been so much easier."

"Well, I didn't think it was wise to just let you know what I could see," I retorted. "I grew up with Wesen friends telling me horror stories about evil Grimms."

Nick laughed. "Oh, come on. Do I really look all that menacing?"

"No, but neither does Monroe. But when he had me pinned against the wall… Oh, never mind." I was telling Nick way too much. Damn alcohol.

Nick snapped his head in my direction. "He had you against a wall? When the hell did that happen?"

"It was…" I sighed. "I made a poor decision and he reacted. Just forget I said anything."

Nick angled himself toward me. "No, you can't tell me something like that and then expect me to forget about it."

I shook my head. I let him know about my red sweater test. Well, as best as I could under drunken circumstances.

"Renée, you might have been killed!" Nick said with immediate worry. "I'm not saying Monroe would have hurt you, but even so…"

"My recklessness has a mind of its own sometimes."

"Did your recklessness tell you to run up my stairs that night with the Daemonfeuer?"

"Yep," I said with a chuckle.

"Do you do that often?"

"It comes in waves. I just react. Don't you do the same thing?"

Nick sighed. "Yeah, but I'm police force trained. I have a background, you don't." Past the drunken slur in his voice there was sternness.

"I could learn." Buffy Summers had learned to use weaponry. I could do that. Nick could be my Giles. No, Nick wasn't the Giles type. Monroe was more like Giles. Nick was like… God, I was really drunk.

"I'm sure you could, but for now you've gotta think before you react." He touched a finger to my nose as he spoke. "This isn't a TV show."

I laughed and took another swig of Cuervo. "Easier said than done."

We talked more about Wesen and our personal lives. Granted, it wasn't intellectual conversation with all the tequila we'd had, but it was good.

"I like this," Nick smiled at me as he reached for the bottle. "I like getting to know you."

"We're drunk, Nick," I slowly shook my head. "We'll be lucky if we remember half of this conversation tomorrow."

"You might be reckless, but you're talented," Nick said. "What you've done with that computer over there is… extra-ordinary." He spaced out the word, but I was too drunk to correct him. "You're pretty amazing, you know that?" He brushed a strand of hair from my face with his free hand as his blue-green eyes looked into mine. Even through my drunkenness there was something more hiding behind them from that comment.

"I just do what I can." I stupidly grinned as I nodded.

"You sure do." Nick leaned in, and I sobered up quickly.

"Whoa, Nick!" My words rang out as we both backed up. I tried to stand, but I was way too drunk for that.

"Dammit, no! I love Juliette!" The words rushed out of him as he held his head and cursed some more at himself.

"And I love Monroe!" I blurted out. It was the first time I'd said that aloud, and I was saying it to Nick Burkhardt.

Nick flashed his eyes at me. "You do?" He seemed as surprised by my words as I was saying them.

"Yeah, but I…" I floundered from the alcohol and with what had just happened.

Nick pointed at me. "Look, you and I…"

"We're just really drunk… and-and… nothing happened… and that's it, right?" I managed to get out the full sentence.

"Right …" he agreed with a shake of his head.

"Stupid tequila," I muttered. "I really ought to go." I tried to stand again and failed miserably.

"You can't leave in this condition," Nick stated quickly as he staggered to his feet, setting the tequila on the desk. "And… Well, I can't leave in this condition either." He wavered quite a bit as he stood.

"I'll call Monroe, and he can come get me." I pulled out my cell phone, trying to press the right buttons. "I'll pick my car up in the morning."

"He can't know about this," Nick urged.

"There's nothing for him to know… Nothing happened," I reminded him. Nick was shaking his head. Nothing would've happened, right? But then again… No, stop thinking.

"But then again, what?" Nick asked. Apparently, I was talking aloud again. I really needed to stop drinking. The brief moment of sobriety was gone, and I was back to being drunk as a skunk. Although, I'd never witnessed a drunken Üblergeruch before.

"What's an Üblergeruch?" He gave me a confused look.

"Nothing," I said. Just shut up, Renée. I set the phone on my knee since I couldn't hit the right buttons.

"Here, let me call him," Nick offered, reaching down for my cell, and pressing the buttons much faster than I could. He let out a laugh as he held the phone to his ear. "Hey Sexy back at ya! Yeah, it's Nick… Yeah, would you be able to come to the trailer? No, not for anything like that… Uh, yeah I am, and that's kinda why I'm calling… Umm, so is Renée… Uhh… We found Aunt Marie's hidden bottle of Jose Cuervo… Uh, well it sounded like a good idea at the time… Okay… See you in a few." He hung up and handed the phone back to me.

"Was he mad?"

Nick shrugged. "I don't think so." With how drunk he was, would he be able to tell? "He said he was in some meeting, though," Nick added. Crap, Monroe's meeting! I'd forgotten about that.

The room was spinning quite a bit as I worked myself off the floor to the nearby desk chair. I moved back to the laptop, and after making sure the work I'd completed was saved, I closed it. At least I was conscious enough to do that correctly. We sat in silence for a long time. I filled my mind with other things, anything else besides what had just happened. I had two trainings coming up this week. The electric bill was due on Monday. I was out of milk. My brain was in a swimming pool of tequila, splashing around. It hurt to think.

"You should tell him," Nick said, breaking the silence.

I flashed him a look. "There's nothing to tell," I replied holding my spinning head.

"No, I mean that you love him," Nick said. "I think you'll be surprised at how he responds." He gave me that dumb, toothy grin of his.

"Now wait… You can't say anything, Nick." My eyes moved to focus on him, but I was beginning to see 'doppel.'

"I wouldn't," he continued to grin, "but if you tell him then I don't have to." Oh God, he better not tell Monroe!

"It's too soon," I practically yelled out. I didn't want to have this conversation with Nick. With how drunk I was, it might slip out anyways tonight. The bottle of Cuervo was half empty. I was normally a half full kinda gal, but with what had happened tonight I was completely pessimistic.

"It's never too soon if it's in your heart." Nick put his hand to his chest, grinning up to both his ears.

"Right, says the guy who told me he's had an engagement ring hidden in his sock drawer for how many months now?" I laughed.

"Hey, now that's different," he retorted. "I was going through a lot of… changes after I bought that ring." Nick was reclined on the trailer bed and looked about as drunk as I felt. God, who was drunker, him or me? Was drunker a word? Oh, who cared? "Besides, I have plans with that soon," he added after a long pause.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really."

The knock on the trailer door halted our discussion.

"It's open," Nick called out, and Monroe entered the trailer. He was wearing his red and black plaid shirt with just a hint of a black button-down shirt poking from the top.

Monroe sighed heavily as he looked at both of us. "Dude, how much did you guys drink?" He walked toward the desk and picked up the bottle, shaking his head as he set it back down. "Really? Was this full when you started?"

"Uhh… It was unopened." I looked up at Monroe. He seemed kind of mad.

"It had to be tequila, huh?" He combed his fingers through his wild, curly hair.

"It's my weakness." I grinned up at Monroe. "Well, one of my weaknesses." He was my real weakness.

"Oh, you're gonna be fun tonight." Monroe rubbed his bearded chin, hiding his smile. Crap… Must be quiet. Loose lips sink ships.

"Well, it's a good thing ours have already collided, huh?" Monroe replied, chuckling this time. Dang it! I couldn't keep a thought inside my tequila-filled head.

"Did you know that tequila doesn't age like wine?" Nick asked, leaning back further on the bed. A dopey grin was glued to his face. He was as lit as a Christmas tree.

"Uh, yeah. Of course I know that. Everyone knows that." He looked at Nick. "Okay. Well, almost everyone, I guess," he added and rolled his eyes slightly back in my direction.

I giggled in spite of myself.

"Are you ready to go?" Monroe asked me.

"Take thee to the VW," I replied while holding one hand up. I must have looked a lot like Christmas, too.

Monroe sighed and helped me out of the chair. "Oh, what fools these Grimms be."

"I don't think that's how the quote goes," Nick slurred.

Monroe simply sighed as I scooped up my laptop bag while the strong Blutbad led me out of the trailer.

"Bye, Nick. This was fun!" I waved and laughed on the way out the door.

Monroe had me in the passenger seat quickly. I struggled to buckle up. After two attempts, I finally found the latch.

"Overnight bag and work laptop…. in the trunk. Could you get them?" I managed to pull out my car keys.

Monroe nodded, and I handed him them over. He put my things in the back seat.

"Dear God, I'm drunk," I remarked, trying not to giggle again.

"I've noticed," Monroe retorted with a quick sigh as he closed his car door and turned on the engine. "So, umm, how much did you have?"

"Enough," I replied with a smirk.

"You have no idea, do ya?"

"Not in the least." I leaned my head back and closed my eyes to keep the world from spinning. "Thank you for saving me," I slurred.

"Well, you know, I'd hate for you to have to spend the night with Nick," Monroe laughed. My face grimaced more than I would've liked to let on. I blacked out my thoughts, lest I said anything more, and I hummed quietly instead.

Monroe chuckled. "What's playing on Renée's mental jukebox tonight?"

"Umm… Cranberries."

"Come again?"

"The Cranberries." I giggled.

"Don't know them."

"Didn't think you would," I said with a drunken smile. "I'd let you hear, but your VW isn't MP3 savvy."

"Yeah, well, the VW doesn't need to be," replied Monroe. "My radio does just fine on its own."

"It's like… going way back in time when I'm in here," I said in a sing-song voice.

"Hey now… This car is the same age as me."

"Like I said… Waaaay back in time." I chuckled.

Monroe gave me a sour face. "Not funny."

I cleared my throat. "Sorry, just ignore me."

"So… Cranberries." Monroe went back to music. "How do the lyrics go?"

"Now, Mr. Monroe…" I pointed a wavering finger at him. "I'm not singing in this condition. That could be bad… very, very bad."

He reached for my finger and gave it a small kiss. "Oh, ya never know. It could be interesting."

"You just want me to say what you've wanted me to…" I put a hand to my lips. Someone please shut me up!

"What do I want you to say?" he asked. I raised my head to Monroe's widened eyes staring at me instead of the road.

I didn't answer. Not good to answer. Instead, I hummed 'Dreams' by The Cranberries again.

"Humming doesn't answer the question," he teasingly remarked.

"Sure it does, if you know the words that go with the tune."

"Uhh… Which I don't."

I leaned my head against his arm, which helped with the spinning, and I softly sang.

_Oh, my life is changing every day,__  
__In every possible way._

_I know I've felt like this before, but now I'm feeling it even more,__  
__Because it came from you.__  
__And then I open up and see the person falling here is me,__  
__A different way to be._

_I want more, impossible to ignore,_  
_Impossible to ignore._

_And now I tell you openly, you have my heart so don't hurt me._  
_You're what I couldn't find._  
_A totally amazing mind, so understanding and so kind;_  
_You're everything to me._

"See, it's bad to sing drunk," I said after finishing.

"No, it's kinda wonderful actually," he replied in a soothing tone. My eyes were closed, so who knew what went along with that tone.

I snuggled on his arm. "Yeah, wonderful."

"I think I really dig that song now. Is it on the playlist?"

I laughed. "There's a lot on the playlist."

"And someday I'll get to hear it, right?"

"If you're a good boy… sure."

"Hey, that wasn't a jab, was it?"

"Oh, no. Not… at… all," I chuckled while swishing my finger in time with each word. I really needed to stop drinking.

"Okay. So, aside from killing off brain cells, what did you and Nick do tonight?"

My stomach flipped, but I managed to say, "Research."

"Anything interesting pop up?"

I sat back in my seat. "Did you know Nick has a whole book just on Blutbaden in there? Have you seen it yet? It dates back to the sixtee-"

"No, I haven't seen it," Monroe shot back before I could finish my sentence.

"Oh, but you need to. Well, some of it is kind of savage. Maybe it's best that you don't." I was rambling.

Monroe cleared his throat. "You know that I'll tell you whatever info you want to know about Blutbaden. Being one kinda helps, you know?" Would he tell me all the gruesome tales and about the war between Blutbaden and Grimms? Probably not. Oh my, but then the other things I'd read tonight…

"What did you read exactly?" The curiosity in his voice was thick. Oh, yeah. That's right… no filter. Great.

I lifted my head slowly and peered right into his eyes. "Just the usual stuff; reactions to red, speed, agility, hearing... mating rituals." I laughed again as I said that last part.

Monroe shifted uncomfortably while his seat squeaked under him. "Oh, God," he muttered as he stared at the road.

"So… What did we do exactly in the back woods of Kentucky, Mr. Monroe?" I asked and held my breath. I'd just hold it until he acknowledged what I feared was true.

Monroe whimpered out an, "Oh man!" then he sighed loudly. "Well... Renée, umm..." He fumbled his words like a football.

The air rushed out of me. "It's true then? You… mated with me?!" Holy hell!

Monroe's eye widened. "Renée, oh man!" His voice went up an octave. "There's a certain… Well, I mean… What we did was…" Panic ran amok through his words. I was so drunk that I actually saw it running. "Look, this isn't how I wanted to have this conversation."

"No, it's fine. I feel bad that my Aunt Donna wasn't there to take pictures. She'll be disappointed now that I'm practically married according to some kind of Blutbad law."

"Okay, now let's not get carried away," Monroe said flatly. "It's supposed to be under a full moon, and there's a bit more to it than that. But, I mean, technically it's what we did, but... Oh, hell... Renée, this isn't how I wanted to discuss… that night." He sighed heavily while gripping the steering wheel.

It wasn't much of a candlelight dinner discussion, either.

Monroe turned to me. "Okay, now that was uncalled for." I was speaking aloud again. Crap.

"Sorry," I said. "I don't have a filter on my thoughts."

"It's just… Well, it's not the easiest thing to describe… especially after it happens. I mean, it was awkward enough when I heard it the first time during my dad's 'birds and bees' talk."

I laughed and rested my head against the coolness of the passenger window as we drove down Southwest Naito Parkway. So, I was his mate. Wow... And I was worried I was moving too fast if I said, 'I love you.' Crap, had I said that aloud, too? Monroe didn't respond. Good, that thought had stayed in my head.

"Wolves mate for life," I said softly, "so are you sure you wouldn't want this with another wolf?"

Monroe stopped the car and spun me around from the window as I held back retching. "Renée, now don't say that! I've never felt this way about anyone. You're all I want."

"Shouldn't there be another few words in there somewhere...?" I asked without thinking. Oh, no. Renée, hush. Just hush right now!

"Yeah, well… I agree there should be. But..." Monroe stopped and shook his head as he put the car back into drive. "How about we talk about this once, you know, Jose is out of your system, okay?"

"Sure, sure. Let's blame it on the alcohol," I sang and laughed again.

Waterfront Park and the Williamette River were blurring past Monroe's driver side window. The clusters of trees rushed by as my stomach knotted. My face flushed with heat. What did the 'but' mean? No, best not to think about it.

"Dude, you've had _way_ too much," Monroe commented as he glanced over at me. "You know, I've heard the term 'glassy-eyed' before, but I've never seen it up close." He reached for my hand. "The street lights are hitting your eyes all funny."

Oh, I didn't feel well. The car was spinning like a tornado had picked it up. I leaned my head against the glass again to steady myself. Maybe if I'd drunk more tequila I'd be knocked out instead of blathering to him like an idiot. Wait. Had I thought that or had I said it? I wasn't sure anymore.

"You're not blathering," Monroe stated. Okay, so I'd said it.

"I just need you to, umm, ignore whatever comes out of my mouth right now. I'm in no position to carry on a conversation." My phone rang on that last statement, and I scrambled to find it.

"Hellooo?" I chanted without bothering to check the caller ID.

"Renée?" Jack's voice questioned. "Is that you?" I really should've checked the caller ID.

"Oh, God," I whined as my speech spilled into itself. "What do _you_ want?"

"We need to talk about last weekend." Jack actually sounded sober. Well, this was a novelty. "I know I saw something in that monster you're dating, and I need you to tell me what he is."

"Jack, not tonight," I sighed.

The VW jerked forward as Monroe slammed on the brakes, and the seat belt dug into my chest. He growled with red eyes blazing. My drunkenness was seeing three red eyes, at least. I slowly shook my head at Monroe and waved him to continue driving.

"Are you drunk, Renée?" Jack asked.

I giggled into the phone. "Wow, you _are_ a clever one."

"This isn't funny. Pete is trying to convince me I'm crazy or something, but I wasn't that drunk. Is he a werewolf?"

"A werewolf?" My breath caught in my throat, and I coughed. "Listen to yourself, Jack," I said after I could breathe again. "There's no such thing." This was true. Blutbaden, yes. Werewolves, no.

"He's not human, that's for sure. I will find out, Renée, and when I do…"

"What, Jack? What are you going to do?" I mocked him.

"I'm going hunting."

I looked over at Monroe. A lowly growl came from him as he drove. No doubt he was listening to what Jack was saying.

"Oh, Jack." I laughed again. "Maybe that bottle of Jim Beam they had you drinking from was bad."

"It wasn't the alcohol, Renée. Don't patronize me." I almost gave Jack kudos for knowing the word 'patronize,' but I worked hard to refrain.

"Jack… Seriously, just think about it... You were your usual drunk self, and you were coming at me, all cursing and yelling. Monroe did what he thought was right and slammed you against a wall. Maybe you hit your head and saw something because of that. But really? A werewolf? Next you'll say that Pete's a vampire, and I'm the bride of Frankenstein."

"I'm glad you find this all funny, but I know I'm not crazy."

"What's going on with Scores?" I asked to change the subject. I was drunk and chatty. "Why didn't you tell me it was about to bottom out?"

Jack was silent for a moment. "It's not a priority right now," he simply replied.

"But that place means everything to you. You can't let it close."

"When you left…" He stopped briefly and sighed. "When you moved to Portland, you left a hole in me, Renée. The bar didn't seem to matter so much after that. Nothing mattered much. Everything reminds me of you. I don't want to be in Louisville. This city was us, and now…" He stopped again. "Now you're not in it, and I don't want to be, either. So to hell with the fucking bar. I'll just go back to St. Louis and start working with my brothers again."

It was the most eloquent Jack had ever been. Or was I so drunk that it just sounded good? I wasn't sure.

"You don't give up on things, Jack. At least find someone to take over the bar. Don't let your baby fall by the wayside."

"You know I love you, Renée," Jack continued. "I can't apologize enough for you to ever understand. Sam was just… I don't know what I was thinking when she came around. I couldn't control it." The broken record had returned. My head was already spinning, and I didn't need anything else to add to it. "Come back to me, and I won't have to go." Was Jack pleading? Jack never pleaded.

The phone was pulled from my hand before I could respond. "Look, dude. That ship has sailed. Please stop calling my girlfriend, and have fun in St. Louis." Monroe hung up my phone.

"Okay, that wasn't necessary," I said.

Monroe scoffed. "Uh, yeah, it was." I was too drunk to argue.

"Jack thinks you're a werewolf." I laughed to keep from crying.

"I heard. Let him think whatever. He's there, we're here. No one is going to believe him."

"Jack is tenacious," I said while leaning back. "He slept on the porch the night I found out about him cheating. Said he wasn't leaving until we talked." I shook my head. "Sorry, I just need to shut up now."

"No, it's fine," Monroe said. He was a bad liar. I hummed softly, closing my eyes once more.

"'Werewolves of London?' Really?"

"Sorry. Bad habits," I muttered softly. 'Werewolves of Portland' was more apropos.

* * *

A/N: Whoa, so lots of info in this chapter! Renée is organizing the trailer... And boy did she learn a lot tonight And what happened with the tequila, huh? Renée just needs to stop drinking. LOL!

Jack just won't let what he saw go, huh?

STAY TUNED...


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

The next morning I awoke disoriented, but the ticking of the clocks were a dead giveaway I was at Monroe's. Memories came trickling back slowly. Usually I could remember everything after drinking, but last night was the most drunk I'd ever been. It seemed the longer I was in the car, the drunker I became. Monroe had to carry me in, I remembered that. He'd laid me on the couch, and the room moved about like I was on the teacup ride at Disneyland.

What kind of conversations did I have last night? I was very chatty, I remembered that, too. Oh, crap, and I talked to Monroe about mating rituals. Did I sing? Yes, I sang. Jack had called, didn't he? Jack thought Monroe was a werewolf. Double crap. And then there was Nick. Oh, hell! What was that all about? I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all.

The closest clock in Monroe's bedroom displayed eight-thirty.

Monroe was sleeping beside me. He opened one eye while I stirred about. "How are we feeling?" he asked as he stretched out.

"I'm good. But I'm just trying to remember last night." Of course it sounded more like 'gust tryin' to 'member last neight.'

He gave me a sleepy grin and a light chuckle. "You're so cute when you first wake up."

I scowled just as lightly back and cleared my throat. "You can take the girl out of the south, but you can't take the south out of the girl," I replied in my work voice.

"At least not first thing in the morning, huh?" Monroe jibed.

I smirked in his direction. "Something like that."

"No hangover?" he inquired and gave me a once over.

"I don't get hangovers," I said while sitting up in the bed. "How are you feeling? How's the cold?"

"I think it's pretty much gone. I've been drinking Echinacea tea, and that seems to have helped." He took in a deep breath through his nose. "Yeah, there's a squirrel in the tree by the window."

My eyes moved toward the bedroom window. A flicker of a squirrel's tail dashed around the tree followed by faint sounds of chattering. "Impressive."

"Eh." He shrugged.

"Don't you need to get a workout in?" I asked.

"Already did it." He smiled up at me. "I slipped back into bed afterwards to be with you."

I lay back down and nuzzled his bearded cheek then gave him a kiss. "Oh, crap!" I quickly jerked back, pressing my hand over my mouth. "I probably taste like twenty-year-old stale tequila," I exclaimed. "Let me go brush my teeth."

"No, it's fine." He leaned back in for another.

"Oh, no. I can't handle the taste myself." I blanched and shook my head. "Stay right here, and I'll be fresh and clean in no time!" I shot out of bed, grabbing my overnight bag as I went. "Stay," I told Monroe with a coy grin as I hovered near the bathroom door.

He rolled his eyes at me, threatening to throw a pillow in my direction. A quick brush later, I slid back into bed and onto Monroe's lips.

"This is nice," he said between kisses.

"Mm-hmm…" I murmured agreeably, wrapping my arms around his neck as I continued to enjoy his lips.

"I'm glad we're doing this. Umm, I mean, you know… the whole staying over thing."

"I'm sure this one wasn't as enjoyable," I said as I looked into those deep, kind brown eyes of his.

"Then you'd be mistaken," he muttered with a sly grin.

"I'm just sorry you had to come out to the trailer and cut your meeting short."

"You know I can't say no to a damsel in distress." That genuine smile of his formed under his beard. "Do you recall… Uhh… anything last night?" His brown eyes glanced downward.

"Not much, why?" I acted intrigued. I remembered more than I wanted to let on.

"No reason." He shook his head. "You must be hungry. What do you say to some breakfast?"

I squinted at him. "So, did I say anything imbecilic last night?"

"Not really." He chuckled softly, looking back up at me. "You sang a lot when we got here. Didn't know you enjoyed Herman's Hermits so much." There was a twinkle in his eye.

I'd sung a lot last night, but what the heck had I sung? I searched my mental music file cabinet for Herman's Hermits songs. "Did I sing 'Henry the Eighth?'" I asked and then groaned. "Oh, please say that was all."

"Not hardly." Monroe laughed. "That one you belted out a couple of times, the others you hummed and would giggle. Then you'd ask me if I knew the song. When I would say, 'yes,' you'd get real quiet." He laughed again as he got out of bed. That I didn't remember. Well, crap. More songs came to mind. Some mentioned love… a lot. "But then you sang..." He paused. "Let's just say you were really drunk, but I enjoyed the serenade."

"Funny thing about tequila; you drink it quickly and it hits hard later," I responded casually as I sat on the edge of the bed. Whatever I'd sung or hummed, he was still cuddling with me, so I must not have offended him. But anyone who would put up with my rendition of 'Henry the Eighth' deserved an award.

Monroe edged toward the bedroom door. "So, breakfast?"

"Sure."

"Good. Let's go downstairs."

"Let me get a shower first, and I'll meet you down there," I said. "I'll be quick."

"Okay, but don't take too long." He gave me a sly grin. "Or I might just have to join you."

I grinned back. "Plenty of water for two."

Monroe reached for the bedroom doorknob. "I'll be downstairs."

"I'll be here, all wet and naked," I teased as I slunk toward the bathroom.

Monroe's eyes flickered red. "Two showers in one day. At least I'll be clean." He chuckled as he let go of the doorknob and ushered me into the bathroom.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

We undressed quickly. Hot water enveloped us as Monroe kissed me deeply. His tongue was as heated as the water above us. Kisses trailed down to my neck to my shoulder. My skin tingled under his mouth as he pressed his lips against my skin.

"Turn," he breathed into my ear, and I pivoted around. Resuming from my shoulder, he lightly nibbled down my back, and I sighed heavily. He knew every spot like they were etched on a map in his mind. Monroe grabbed my vanilla body wash, pouring an ample amount into his hands. "I love how this smells," he whispered in my ear, nibbling my lobe lightly while he stood behind me." This is you. I smell this, and I know you're near."

As he rubbed a small amount of body wash onto my back, his strong hands massaged deeply, and it felt like heaven. Monroe rubbed his hands up toward to my shoulders, kissing my neck as he went. Sliding back down, he glided his hands forward to my breasts, cupping them completely. Slippery, soapy fingers slid across my nipples, and I gasped sharply. I managed to breathe, but my knees buckled in response to the motion of his fingers. I leaned into his strong chest, knowing full well he could support me, while his fingers continued to circle my breasts as I moaned.

"You like that, huh?"

"Yes." The word escaped my lips after my teeth let go of the bottom one. My breaths were keeping time with his fingers. Those incredibly gifted fingers.

Monroe's pleasure was growing as his hips brushed up against me. He stopped abruptly and pushed my back against the wall of the shower, pinning my wrists against the pale green bathroom tiles. I held my breath, anticipating his next move.

Monroe's eyes were on fire, dazzlingly bright and full of lust... the best color red. "All mine." As he uttered the words, my mind flashed back to the Blutbad mating rituals.

I wanted to be his, but were we ready for what the Grimm book had described? Oh, what did it matter? I loved him, whether I told him or not, I knew it was true. Like Nick had said last night, it was in my heart. My brain just needed to acknowledge that it was different this time. It would get there eventually. But for now…

Monroe's lips were back on mine, blindsiding my thoughts. He held me securely, squeezing my wrists as he kissed down my neck. Cool tiles pressed against my back, contrasting with the heat. I let out a soft sigh.

Monroe looked up at me. "Having another reckless moment?" he asked with a smirk. "I see that sparkle in your eyes."

"I'm just enjoying my shower." I grinned back at him.

"You know, as a Grimm you really shouldn't enjoy being captured by Wesen." His grip on my wrists tightened, and I bit my lip once more.

"Captured by Wesen? No. Captured by you? Absolutely." I loved his dominance. I couldn't help it.

Monroe growled and kissed me firmly on the lips. "I like that answer." He let my wrists go and reached for the bottle of body wash again. More soap was applied to his hands, and he worked the vanilla down the curve of my hips and further still, caressing my body as he went. Monroe took in a whiff, and he gave me that devilish grin of his. I hadn't seen that grin much since Kentucky. "Vanilla paired with your arousal. That's scent is just… delicious." Oh, he was feeling much better. His mouth was on mine again as soapy fingers slipped between my thighs.

My moans poured into his mouth. "Your fingers... are… delicious…" I gasped out between breaths.

"I'm going to play your body like my cello." The seductive words rolled off Monroe's tongue with a smooth flow that hitched my breath right up in my throat.

I'd finished that darn _Fifty Shades of Grey_ book the day after we'd arrived back in Portland. The main character, Ana, had described her breath hitching every which way possible. I didn't understand what it even meant until now. At that moment my breath hitched, and boy, did it hitch something awful!

Monroe's eyes acknowledged my reaction at his words and they flashed like red lightning. He leaned in, resting his lips near my ear. "You and I are going to make beautiful music," he breathed, and with that, his fingers moved adeptly between my legs like he was playing a Bach concerto.

I was singing arias in no time. Bracing myself against the shower tiles, I tried to remain upright as he brought me to my crescendo. Monroe kissed me hard, halting my moans. My release burst forth in a grand forte as I had a standing ovation.

"See? Beautiful wasn't it?" he teased after letting my lips go.

"Heavenly." I managed to sigh while my head rested against the shower tiles. "A masterpiece, for sure." Between the heat of the water and the heat between me and Mr. Monroe, I was flushed all over.

"The masterpiece isn't complete yet." The devilish grin reemerged under Monroe's beard. "Turn," he said again, and I did as he asked.

The clicks of the bottle of body wash opening caught my ear, and this time he concentrated on my lower backside. My skin was tingling from moments before, and his touch sent my body trembling under his hands.

Monroe's full excitement pressed against my derriere. "Lean down," he said just as firmly as what he was pressing against me.

Planting my forearms against the tile, I angled myself downward as he cleansed my body. His fingers drew across my legs, then back up my inner thighs, teasing lightly between them, then up toward my hips. It was delightfully torturous.

"Please, take me," I moaned softly.

"You can't rush a masterpiece, Renée." Mr. Wolf awoke from his slumber. His taunts brushed against my ear as he emerged from his cage. God, he'd been locked up far too long.

Skilled hands inched up my back to my shoulders, the lather prickling each nerve ending as I purred from his touch. Monroe, err, Mr. Wolf ran his hands up my arms, rubbing methodically, then back down he went until I was writhing with anticipation. He reached around, applying small circles to my breasts, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

I let out another moan and pressed back into him. "Your bow feels really good against my cello." I moaned out the words.

Mr. Wolf chuckled lightly. "Does it now?" That devilish grin was etched in his reply. "You think I oughta stroke the strings and see how that feels?"

"Oh, yes. Please," I begged. I needed stroking desperately.

I let out a gasp as he thrust into me. Mr. Wolf groaned, sliding back slowly at first, but then he quickly increased his speed. Eighth notes turned into sixteenth notes as his music played on inside me. He hands found their way back to my breasts, his fingers plucking at my nipples. Such talent in those fingers! In and out, the thrusts elicited more moans that I couldn't control, echoing inside the small bathroom. He cradled his body against me as he continued into a series of staccato notes. My hips rocked back and forth to his tempo, meeting him with perfect rhythm.

Mr. Wolf nipped my neck softly as his fingers wrapped around my arms, holding on tightly. "Mine?" He posed the question breathily into my ear, nipping my neck once more.

"Always."

He growled in response, increasing to a sudden sforzando, and the melody exploded as I cried out with fortissimo! I collapsed against the shower tiles as the weight of Monroe's body jutted me forward.

"You just became my favorite instrument," he mused, kissing the nape of my neck quickly.

"You play me so well." I sighed. "So very well."

"I'm sure we could fit in an encore later."

I grinned at the thought.

* * *

A/N: Monroe and Renée do enjoy their showers. (;


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

After I'd dried my hair, I hummed happily as I followed Monroe downstairs.

"So, what are we humming?" he asked while looking over his shoulder at me.

I thought about the song and grinned some more. "Just something my subconscious feels is comme il faut."

"Oh, really? A befitting song of your subconscious, huh?" He gave me a sly grin. "Is it on your MP3 player?"

"Yeah, it is," I slowly replied with eyes wide. "I thought you didn't parlez français."

His grin continued. "I know enough." I'd have to watch my French. "Put the song on for me," Monroe said casually as we entered the living room. It wasn't authoritative or demanding. Just a simple request.

The song was Jason Mraz's 'I'm Yours.' I mentally ran through the lyrics. It wasn't too forward and didn't profess anything more than what I'd already told him. I nodded in his direction and crossed the room to where my bag was sitting on the cedar chest, retrieving my MP3 player from inside. I hooked up the MP3 player to Monroe's stereo.

"_So I won't hesitate no more, no more.__  
__It cannot wait, I'm sure.__  
__There's no need to complicate, our time is short.__  
__This is our fate, I'm yours…"_

As the song played, Monroe listened intently to Mr. Mraz sing about not hesitating anymore and it being our fate. The words 'I'm yours' elicited a sly smile on his lips as his eyes flickered red. The lyrics danced around the crazy 'L' word as easily and as often as I did. It talked about love, but it never really came out and said it. Maybe that's why I'd been humming it.

"Your taste in music always interests me." He gave me a smirk. "This is better than 'Henry the Eighth' by far."

I shook my head, but didn't reply. Oh my, what other songs could I have possibly hummed in my drunken stupor? I kicked the thoughts out of my head.

"Let's make breakfast." Monroe grinned at my silence as he wandered toward the kitchen. "I worked up quite an appetite."

The song was close to ending and I stood by the stereo.

Monroe leaned his head back into the living room. "Come on in here. The music can play in the background." He smirked at his ploy. Duped again. Clever, Mr. Monroe, really clever.

I walked into the kitchen with a slow shake of my head. Yeah, the music was quite audible in here, too.

"So, what would you like today?" Monroe asked. "I have eggs, or I could whip up some blueberry pancakes."

I beamed at him. "I'm in the mood for whatever," I replied as I listened out for the next song. Musical roulette sucked. This one was a combination of all my playlists. I sighed internally.

"Pancakes it is!" Monroe's voice piped up, and that genuine smile of his lit up his baby blue kitchen. "And I also have fruit and yogurt," he added brightly.

Don McLean's 'Starry, Starry Night' played in the living room, soft and sweet as Monroe pulled out ingredients for our meal. I swayed as I hummed along to the music while I sliced strawberries and cantaloupe at the counter.

"I like this song," Monroe commented as I continued with the fruit.

His eyes were on me, I just knew it. I turned slightly and was met with two pools of chocolate. They were saying, 'what does this song mean to you?'

"I'm intrigued by Van Gogh," I said. "This ode to him has always been a favorite of mine. Sweet yet sad. He led a hard, complicated life."

"Wow," said Monroe. "You said his name correctly. Most people botch it up something awful."

I shrugged. "Well, his name isn't 'Van Go,'" I chuckled.

"You know, Van Gogh's most famous works were painted in the last two years of his life. In 1885 he…" Monroe paused his factoids and looked back at me. "Which pieces of his do you like the best?" he asked.

"While _Starry Night_ is beautiful, the one he did prior to that called _Starry Night Over the Rhone_ is the one I'm most partial to," I replied as Monroe nodded. "In the bottom corner there are two lovers strolling by the banks of the river. Although there isn't much detail in their appearance, they just exude this amorous chemistry." I smiled as the painting came to mind. "I used to imagine a whole story for them; He proposed on those same banks, and they had been married for decades. Every anniversary they would walk along by the riverside and reminisce of their youth and the stories they had created together over the years. Ursa Major would flicker above them as they strolled together, arm in arm."

"And they lived happily ever after?" Monroe asked with a soft grin.

I shook my head and glanced back down at the strawberries. "Yeah, something mushy and romantic like that."

Monroe came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and moved his hips along with Don McLean's tune.

"It's not mushy. It's a beautiful notion," he said thoughtfully. For a moment he seemed like he was going to say something else, but that was all.

"Beautiful, but idealistic," I wistfully replied.

He squeezed me gently. "Nothing wrong with that, either." His lips gently touched my cheek and he went back to the pancakes.

A few other songs played that were mostly harmless. Songs that I hadn't heard in a while flowed through Monroe's stereo, reminding me of friends and family. Monroe would nudge me for an explanation, and I would tell him the back story.

As 'Dancing Queen' began, Monroe laughed. "ABBA?"

"Nothing wrong with ABBA," I protested.

"So, the significance here is?"

"Fourth of July, 2003," I said. "Chloe won first prize in a '70s dance off at The Back Door Bar with that song." I laughed and shook my head at the memory of that night. "Oh, and there's a visual with this one."

I went back into the living room and took out my laptop. Monroe stood behind me as I pulled up a Facebook photo of Chloe all decked out in her disco attire.

"That night I came close to going home with him." I pointed to the background where there stood a stoutly guy in his late fifties. "If it hadn't been for Chloe, then I would have."

Monroe laughed. "So, how much tequila did you drink that night?"

"I was the designated driver," I laughed back.

He scratched his head. "So, I don't get it."

"That, Mr. Monroe, was my first Ziegevolk encounter."

"Oh..." said Monroe with a short chuckle.

Sure, Chloe had taught me about Ziegevolk, but knowing about one and encountering one were two separate things. That night Goat Guy had slid up next to me at the bar with some cheesy line about how I sparkled like a disco ball. Of course I was repulsed at first sight. But then he squeezed my arm and asked if I wanted to leave. The feelings that Ziegevolk gave me were like nothing I'd ever experienced. Of course, it was all the pheromones he produced, as was their nature, but still… For a moment I was completely enamored and was seeing wedding bells.

"Fortunately, Chloe saw me heading off to his car and was able to pry me away from him. Thank goodness for that bunny of mine."

"Yeah, thank goodness for that." He looked at the picture again. "Sheesh."

"From then on our secret code phrase for Blue Beards was 'Dancing Queen.' Well, at least until I was able to recognize them better."

Monroe just shook his head as we headed back to the kitchen.

A tall stack of blueberry pancakes was set on the dining room table as the next song began.

"_Heart skips a beat, my heart skips a beat.__  
__My heart is playing tricks on me.__  
__And it's building bricks on me.__  
__I can't break through,__  
__And I can't face you…"_

I sat up straight. "Oh, I think music time is over." I wasn't about to explain this one.

"Now wait a minute." Monroe reached for my shoulder before I could get to the living room. "Let's hear this one out."

"Sure." I tried to keep my tone cool, but there was no hiding from him.

I laid out plates and brought in the fruit and yogurt from the kitchen. I thought about cold things. Ice, snow, cold December winters... Maybe that would keep my cheeks from flushing. It really didn't work.

"_My heart is always first to know,__  
__And as the feeling grows,__  
__My heart says, 'Go,' but my brain says, 'No.'"_

Lenka's lyrics played on, exposing inner thoughts to Monroe's ears. I laid the bowl of fruit and yogurt on the table and sat down quietly.

"So, this one…" Monroe began, taking a seat next to me. God, his smile was so smug.

"This one is… newish." I stabbed two pancakes from the stack with my fork and drizzled on a small amount of syrup. "Is this butter pecan syrup or maple?" I asked while looking up at him.

He obviously wasn't fooled at my change of discussion and arched a brow. "Maple," he stated.

"Red maple or black maple?" I pressed. Monroe knew I was dawdling, but the song was just about over.

"Actually it's just sugar maple." He folded his hands on the table and shook his head at me. "It's okay if you don't want to discuss it. The words speak for themselves."

"I have many songs on that playlist. Sometimes I just download the ones that hit me at certain times."

"That reminds me, how many songs do you have?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"If I were to guess," I hesitated as I guesstimated, "I'd say three, maybe three and a half thousand."

"Thousand?!" he repeated as his eyes widened. "And you know the lyrics to all of them?"

"Yeah, of course. Well, the ones that have lyrics. I have quite a bit of instrumental pieces on there, too."

Monroe touched my temple, tapping lightly. "That's a lot of information to hold up there."

"I like music, what can I say?"

"I know you play the violin. And very well, I might add. Do you play anything else?"

"Honestly, I can play whatever anyone hands me. But I excel at the violin. That's what I love."

"Hmm…" he said, seemingly unconvinced. "So… you're saying you can just pick up something you haven't played before and play it?"

"Yeah. It used to upset my friends in band. Apparently it takes a lot of practice to achieve tonality on the trumpet and the flute, but I was able to play out a few songs right away. Dad always said I was gifted. He was a bit disappointed I didn't pursue more of a career in music, but he realized I loved finance," I said with a shrug. "I find joy in training, although I'm sure I could be some executive somewhere, but that's not what I want."

"But let's get back to the music," Monroe replied with more curiosity. "If you went in the living room right now and picked up my cello…. You could play it?"

I nodded. "I'm no Yo-Yo Ma, but it would be adequate."

"Show me." Monroe got up from the table.

"But the pancakes will be cold," I protested. "Breakfast then music."

Monroe sat back down, furrowing his brow as he nodded. "Okay, but then I want to hear you play."

"Sure, but let's enjoy this first."

While we ate, Rachmaninoff's familiar tune drifted from the stereo, and I breathed out a sigh. Monroe quickly went through forkfuls of pancakes and fruit.

"Are you even tasting what you're eating?" I asked.

His fork hovered by his mouth. "Um-huh," he mumbled, and then swallowed the food from the last forkful.

I laughed. "The cello isn't going anywhere."

He ate more slowly, but he wanted to test me out. It was okay. I'd tested him before, and it was only fair. I still had plans on more tests for him, with his consent, of course, so I was fine with this.

Rachmaninoff ended, and I took in a breath. I hated musical roulette. Maroon 5 began to play. Okay, this one wasn't too bad. Actually, this was a good one.

"_My Heart's a stereo.__  
__It beats for you so listen close.__  
__Hear my thoughts in every note.__  
__Oh, Oh,__  
__Make me your radio,__  
__And turn me up when you feel low.__  
__This melody was meant for you.__  
__Just sing along to my stereo…"_

"This is, like, your theme song, huh?" Monroe said, and I bit back a grin.

"I like to think of myself more like… a walking jukebox. But sure. It could be."

"So, umm, what kinda thoughts should I be hearing in all these notes of yours?"

"They're always up for interpretation, Mr. Monroe. You know that."

Once we finished breakfast, Monroe shot up from the table.

"Follow me," he said eagerly. I had to laugh at his eagerness.

I made my way to the living room, swiftly removing the MP3 player from the stereo as I went. He flashed me a look, but I didn't acknowledge it.

Monroe reached for his cello and pointed to the chair. "Okay, let's hear what you can do."

I took a seat as he handed over his instrument. "Any requests?"

He grinned. "Surprise me."

I adjusted the cello between my legs, the weight rested against my chest. Monroe passed me the bow and I began to play. I chose Chopin's 'Etude Op. 25 No. 7' since I'd heard it many times, and it had some great finger moves.

The deep vibrations resonated within me and I closed my eyes, the melody taking me over as I went. It had been a while since I'd played a cello, but it didn't seem to matter as I moved my fingers across the strings while completely taking in the moment. The next part was more intricate, but I pressed on. Each note took hold of me, and my body slowly rocked back and forth along with it. When I finished, I opened my eyes. Monroe's woge took me by surprise.

"Are you okay over there?" I asked.

"Amazing." That foreign voice came from him, and I had to bite my lip. I hadn't had the wolf in a bit. I stared into those deep red eyes of his, reading the desire within them.

He suddenly retracted and took in a quick breath. "You didn't tell me you could do that!" he exclaimed.

"I really don't like to show off," I humbly replied. It was true. I mean, who wanted to hear someone spout off, 'look what I can do?'

"Play something else," he encouraged, and I smiled at him. Two more songs later I was a bit tired.

"You're just... I'm… That's so incredible!" He was in awe, and I continued to smile.

I placed the cello back against the wall by the fireplace.

Monroe kissed me hard as I turned toward him. "God, that's such a turn on," he said.

"The cello has that effect on me when you play, too." I grinned up at him as he held my face in his hands.

"I just… I want to take you to a music store and watch what else you can do. This is just wild, man!"

"I'm simply musically inclined. It's not anything to go nuts over."

"Oh, I think it is." He grinned then kissed me some more. "It's like I told that Reinigen kid, you have real talent, man. Something like that…" he lifted my hands up. "What you just did with these two hands… That's a gift. Don't tell me it's nothing, 'cause that's just… Well, for someone like me, it's something we'd give anything to be able to do." He kissed both my hands.

Monroe had mentioned helping Nick with a case involving a student whose music teacher had been eaten by rats. I still cringed at the thought. The kid played the violin like 'nobody's business.' Monroe had tried to set him on the straight and narrow since Nick thought he was headed for trouble. They'd had a heart-to-heart moment, and Monroe seemed to enjoy being a mentor from how he'd described it, but he wouldn't admit to that. Still, the twinkle in his eye as he talked about giving advice to the young rat said otherwise. Oh, Monroe the teacher. He was good at that.

"You oughta meet him," Monroe continued. "The Reinigen kid, I mean. I wonder if it would be weird if I went by to see him again?" He put his hand to his bearded chin.

"How old is he?"

"Sixteen, seventeen maybe?"

"That might be a bit odd," I replied.

"Ah, well. I'll ask Nick and see what he thinks." Monroe shot his eyes up. "So, can you play the zither?" That man switched subjects faster than they do on _Jeopardy_.

"Zither? Uh, I've never even seen one up close. But I've played a steel guitar before. That's kinda the same thing, right?"

"Uh, not really." He gave me a 'don't be ridiculous' face.

I tilted my head toward him. "You have one, don't you?"

Monroe's eyes widened as he flexed his eyebrows. "I can play more than just cello, too, you know."

"You can? It seems I'm not the only one with hidden talents."

"Oh, I have many talents." A hint of that devilish grin reappeared, and I had to bite my lower lip again. "Have you ever heard of Hugues Nuages the Austrian Zitherist?"

"Hugues Nuages? Who hasn't?" I brightly replied as Monroe's eyes lit up. I bit back a smirk while shaking my head. "Sorry, I've never heard of him."

"Oh." His shoulders slumped slightly. "Well, he's my absolute favorite."

"How many zitherists are out there?" I asked.

"Well, it depends on the type of zither you're referring to," he replied with a grin. In the next twenty minutes I'd learned that aside from Austrian zitherists, there were German, Slovenian, Hungarian, and Croatian just in Europe alone. "You know, Johann Strauss has a great zither solo in his 'Tales from the Vienna Woods' waltz."

I smiled. "See, now I know who Strauss is."

Monroe chuckled. "Well, that's good at least."

"I'd like to hear Hugues Nuages though, since he's your favorite."

"I need to get a better record. The one I have is a bit scratched up from being over-played."

"Aww. Well, maybe we can get you another one."

"They're not easy to find. Believe me, I've tried," he said with a sigh. "But you can get an idea of what he sounds like." Monroe moved to the other side of the living room to a record player I'd clearly missed seeing before.

"So, you really meant a record," I said as he pulled one out from the shelf below. He turned. "Yeah, vinyl has such a great sound, man." Of course he meant a real record. Vinyl fit Monroe like a vintage glove.

The melody began to play all light and airy as Monroe grinned. "He's just amazing." He glanced up at the grandfather clock. "Whoa, what time is it? I've got a wristwatch to finish and deliver. Well, hell!"

I sighed. "And I have two PowerPoints to complete for my trainings tomorrow." Time was back to flying again. "Oh, and sometime we've got to pick up my car at the trailer. I really don't like it being out there. That parking lot is just shady to me."

"Yeah, we can do that this afternoon. No problem."

We worked independently as Hugues Nuages played on. I peered over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of Monroe delving deep into his work. He was so serious when he was in clockmaker mode. I couldn't help but smile at my bespectacled boyfriend. His hands were moving from one tool to the next while a large magnifier and lamp helped guide the way. Monroe looked up and smiled at me. I gave him a cheesy grin and turned back to my PowerPoint. The record made a sharp screech sound and my eyes shot up.

Monroe walked back in. "Yeah, that's where ol' Hugues always stops." He shook his head sadly as he moved the arm off the record.

"Well, I got to hear quite a bit," I said appreciatively.

"Oh, but the next song is just…" He sighed. "Well, you've just gotta hear it to appreciate it."

I moved the laptop to the couch and crossed the room to the record player. The record had some apparently deep scratches along the inner parts of the disc.

I took note of the disk name. "Maybe I can find it on iTunes?" I suggested.

"Yeah, well… maybe," he replied, seeming lost in thought.

"Actually I'd like to hear you play, Mr. Zitherist."

Monroe looked up and softly chuckled. "Oh, you'll hear me sometime. I don't want to show off all my skills so early on in a relationship." He winked. "Besides, I gotta figure out where I put it first."

* * *

A/N: A little more musical roulette and some revelations about Renée's musical talents.

_Starry Night Over the Rhone_ is a beautiful piece. I have a link on my profile if you want to check it out.

Sorry, but I couldn't help but joke on the Hugues Nuages thing. To me, that scene in the show is absolutely corny, but I know most Monrosalee fans love it. So I couldn't help but have Renée tease Monroe that she knew Hugues Nuages.  
Now, my thoughts on the Hugues Nuages record is that Monroe missed his opportunity to find the better record at the garage sale since being with Renée. He has this old record though, but since he's played it a zillion times, it's all scratched up. And Monroe playing the zither in the webisodes encouraged me to hint that Monroe has a few musical talents of his own. Even if he can't play all that well. (;

I'd like to see Roddy come back. Maybe he will in a future story, maybe not. I haven't decided yet. LOL!


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Two completed PowerPoints and a wristwatch later, our work was over.

"Come with me on this delivery and I'll drop you off at your car afterwards."

I nodded as I grabbed my jacket and shoulder bag.

Along the way, I did a Google search of Hugues Nuages. He wasn't on iTunes. I hadn't really expected him to be when I'd mentioned it. Wikipedia gave a short bio. The poor guy had eleven fingers and one leg. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Perhaps an extra finger made him better on the Zither than most. I went back to Google to search for a record for sale. The results came up with zilch. I half-expected that, too. But I wasn't about to give up, yet.

We went to a small home with green siding out in Northeast Portland. The place seemed nicer than the houses surrounding it.

"Now just stay in the car. The guy's a Lausenschlange, and he's a bit, umm, touchy, if you know what I mean. It's better if you stay here."

I nodded and he exited the car with the wristwatch in his hand. He briskly walked up to the porch as a middle-aged man with a seamy grin opened the door. I was quite content staying in the car. I wasn't too fond of the few Lausenschlange I'd met before. Untrustworthy types in my experience.

They talked for a few moments as Monroe passed the wristwatch to Mr. Seamy. He appeared pleased, putting the watch on immediately and then paid Monroe with a wad of cash. Monroe gave him a brief smile and a nod before turning back toward the car. Mr. Seamy kept an eye on Monroe as he walked off the porch. His eyes shifted my way with a curiosity in his stare as he had a brief woge into a snake. I looked away quickly.

"Another satisfied customer," said Monroe as he settled into his seat. "And, dude, that one ain't easy to please."

"Is he a new client?" I asked as we drove down the road.

"Him? Nah. I've been working with him for a while now."

"Is that why he got a delivery instead of having to pick up the watch?"

"I like to deliver when I can. I think it adds a personal touch. Besides, with a Lausenschlange I'd rather go to his place than have him on my lawn, if you catch my drift."

I chuckled. "I had to pick mine up, and I wasn't a Lausenschlange."

"Now yours was different. I wanted you to try my coffee. I don't make coffee for just any client." He gave me a wink.

"Lucky me," I grinned back at him.

Monroe dropped me off at the trailer shortly after and I told him I'd come back over tonight. I had some errands to run and it was nice to have some free time. Monroe had a follow-up meeting at Helvetia Tavern later that evening since his last one was cut short due to my drunkenness. He also had another watch he wanted to get a leg up on, so it would work out well for both of us.

I got a call from Nick that afternoon.

"Hey, so how were you this morning?" he asked cautiously.

"Good, how about you?"

"I had one hell of a hangover. Work was _interesting_ this morning. No more drinking on work nights."

"Probably best that we not drink like that again at all," I stiffly replied.

"Right, uh, about that. I was really, really drunk. I probably would've tried to kiss Monroe if he'd been here instead of you," he laughed awkwardly. "I hope you know that didn't mean anything, so I don't want it to be weird when you come back over again."

"It's fine, Nick. That was a lot of tequila. Nothing happened, so we're good."

"Good. I'm glad you're okay. I think I still have a hangover."

"I can't believe you got a hangover from that."

"I'm not as young as I used to be," he chuckled. "So, are you saying you were fine this morning?"

"Yeah. Fortunately I've never had a hangover. I thought being clear-headed the next day was a Grimm thing."

"If it is, then clearly I didn't get that family gene. I had to wear shades the first couple of hours at work. Hank, my partner, about laughed his ass off at me when I strolled in."

"Did Juliette get upset that you stayed out all night?"

"Well, she wasn't too happy, but she understands when it happens."

"Wow, she's pretty forgiving."

"She's the best, what can I say?"

"Even though I met her under unusual circumstances, I think I'd really like her."

"Yeah, I don't think you two getting together would be such a good idea," said Nick a bit harshly.

"No, you're probably right. That makes sense."

"Juliette doesn't need anyone else dodging the truth around her." Nick's voice softened. "I do that enough as it is."

Nick was probably right. While I was in need of human interaction, a friendship with the Grimm's girlfriend would be awkward. While I was good at avoiding the supernatural in my conversations, trying to keep stories straight would be more of a task than anything.

"Well, I need to head out. I have some errands to run."

"Yeah. I still have a thief at large with this Japanese exhibit and not even a speck of DNA."

"Any clues at all?"

Nick was silent, then finally said. "Renée, it's really not something I can discuss. Sorry."

"No, I understand." I shook my head even though he couldn't see it. "I hope your hangover wears off soon. We'll talk later."

I stared at the phone as I hung up. My thoughts went back to Monroe's scratched up record. I dialed a good friend of mine in Kentucky.

"Donnie," I said as my friend the turtle answered the phone.

"Renée! What's up, dudette?" he replied with a smile in his voice. "How's the Portland music scene?"

"Oh, the same as ever. A little indie here, a bit of punk rock there. Portland has its diversity," I said. "How's the store going?"

"It's great. We're always jamming here." As he spoke I picked out Miles Davis faintly playing in the background.

Donnie owned Underground Sounds, which was one of best vintage music stores in the Highlands, or in most of Louisville for that matter. Chloe was my soul mate, but Donnie Marshelle was my musical soul mate. He knew everything and anything that could be plucked, beat, or tooted.

"I kind of need to call in a favor."

"Anything for you. You need a cover disc? Perhaps a little jazz or some Rockabilly?"

"No, this is a specialty item. It's an Austrian Zitherist… on vinyl."

"Zitherists? Wow, you're really getting out there with your eclecticism, man."

I chuckled. "It's for my boyfriend. He said it's hard to find, which means if I come to you, then you'll find it without any trouble."

"Oh, my little dudette, you know me so well."

"You got a pen? You're gonna want to write this down."

* * *

A/N: So Nick was just a little drunk, huh? LOL!

Underground Sounds is a real place in Louisville, it's just not actually owned by a turtle. (At least, I don't think so.)

Hope you're enjoying the story so far. Not seeing many comments, so I hope I'm not boring you. (: Readers, are you out there?

I'll have more chapters up in a few days... STAY TUNED!


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

That evening I was checking off my mental to-do list with gusto. I was just finishing putting away towels in the laundry room when a faint knock on the front door stopped me mid-fold.

Monroe's head was on the other side of my peephole. I opened the door quickly.

"Hey, umm, I thought I was coming over to your place later."

"I have plans for us tonight," Monroe replied as he lingered at my front door. He was wearing my favorite gray sweater and jeans. A quick flicker of Kentucky passed through my mind.

"I thought you had a meeting tonight."

"One meeting off won't hurt me."

I gave him a concerned look. "You sure about that?" The meetings at Helvetica Tavern were important, and I'd already been the cause of the last one getting cut short.

"Yeah, I'm good, okay?" He replied as he walked inside, shutting the front door behind him. "I can meet with them tomorrow or something. But like I said, I have plans for us tonight." He grinned and I couldn't help but mirror him.

"So, what kind of plans?" I asked.

"Surprises!" His eyes flashed a bold crimson as he spoke.

"I do enjoy your surprises, Mr. Monroe."

"Come with me."

"Uhh… Oh, you mean plans, right now?"

Monroe nodded. "I mean, if you weren't busy or anything."

The laundry could wait. My curiosity was piqued. "No, I'm not busy. Let me just get ready."

"Dress warmly," Monroe called out as I went into my bedroom. Dress warmly? Was it another run in the woods? Hmm... We hadn't done that in a while and I bit my lip.

I popped my head out from my bedroom door. "Do I need my running outfit?"

"No, nothing like that, Monroe shook his head. "Just wear a sweater. I don't want you to get cold."

I hid my disappointment. So, what was he up to? Rummaging through the closet, I chose my soft, baby blue sweater and a pair of jeans and tennis shoes. He said we weren't running, but just in case I wanted to be ready.

As I came out, Monroe was rocking on his heels and seemed filled with nervous energy.

"Everything all right?" I asked.

"Yeah. Good. Really good. Are you ready to go?"

"Sure. Let me grab my jacket." I took my black one from the coat rack and we headed out.

Monroe opened the door for me and I settled in the seat of the VW. There was a large, black bag in the back seat.

"What's that?" I asked and pointed behind me once he closed his car door.

"Surprises!" he said again. His trademark smile emerged.

Whatever it was, I was already giddy with anticipation.

We drove for a while and I looked out into the clear night sky. Clear skies in Portland were rare and the stars were brightly shining tonight. I hummed Jessica Mauboy's 'Galaxy' as I reached for Monroe's hand.

"_So in love with you,__  
__There's nothing I won't do.__  
__We come from different places, different constellations.__  
__You make it feel like the whole world isn't real,__  
__And I'm the only star in the sky…"_

"So how far are we going?" I asked. We'd been in the car almost a half an hour. The city lights were getting fainter while more stars emerged.

"You ask too many questions," he chuckled. "Just be patient and we'll be there soon."

Ten minutes later Monroe pulled off into the edge of a wooded area.

"You sure there's no running tonight?" I asked as I looked over the terrain illuminated by the headlights.

"No running," he replied.

We got out of the car, and Monroe removed a flashlight from his pocket, brightening our way. He pulled the seat back, lugging the black bag out of the back. On the floorboard was a large, black umbrella. I held back a remark. Nobody carries an umbrella in Portland? Sure, sure, Mr. Monroe. On my next shopping trip I was buying a nice one for my car, too.

Monroe closed the car door. He moved to the front of the car, opening the trunk. Inside was the picnic basket from the attic and blanket. He lifted the basket and handed it to me and he took the blanket.

"If you can carry that, I have the rest."

"A picnic in the dark?" I asked with a smirk that he probably couldn't see.

"More than just that," he replied. "Follow me." As I held the basket, a faint clinking noise came from inside. Glasses? Hmm…

We walked to a clearing right by the woods. Monroe set down the bag and laid out the blanket. I positioned the basket on the plaid cloth. Of course it was plaid. I held back a giggle. Monroe handed me the flashlight.

"Get comfortable," he said as he unzipped the bag and pulled out his telescope.

My eyes lit up. "Star gazing? Now that's a wonderful surprise."

Monroe grinned. "It's not the Rhone, but…"

"Starry nights over Portland are just as wonderful." I grinned at him. He'd remembered the Van Gogh. Oh, Monroe. Always so thoughtful.

"There's an awesome conjunction of Jupiter and Venus tonight. I thought it might be nice to take it in."

"Such a beautiful night," I sighed while gazing up at the myriad of stars above us. It was pitch black outside, and this spot had a low clearing, except for behind us with the tall trees. The moon was low on the horizon, and there weren't any lights for miles. We were definitely far from the city.

Monroe fiddled with knobs and adjusted the tripod as he adeptly maneuvered his telescope into position while I held the light for him.

"Oh, that's a beauty," he exclaimed as he peered into the telescope. "Come take a look."

I stood and walked toward the telescope as Monroe moved over. Closing one eye and peering into the lens with the other, I viewed both planets very close together. Jupiter was pretty visible, with its rich orange stripes and that big red spot. Venus was much smaller and its bright light almost distorted Jupiter's view. This was a decent telescope.

Monroe went into facts about both planets as I observed through the lens.

"It's so lovely," I said.

"I wanted to do this yesterday when they were at their closest, but then it was overcast. But today actually worked out better since today is… Well, it's been a month since we… Umm…"

I glanced up as Monroe rocked on his heels. "So today is our lunar-versary?"

"Lunar-versary?"

I grinned. "Yeah, that's what people call it. But we've been seeing each other longer than a month."

"Well, it's been a month since we've seen, you know, _all_ of each other."

"Huh? Oh… Ohh…" I said and then bit my lip. "So, is that the date we're going by?"

"I mean, yeah. We were kinda official that day, so to speak."

I nodded. "Yeah, it was quite official." Thank goodness it was dark, because a heat spread over my cheeks. "So if we use that date, it means our anniversary is gonna be Valentine's Day," I laughed.

"Was it that day that we…? Wow, I'd completely forgotten. You know, I didn't even think about Valentine's Day this year. Man, I didn't even get you anything, come to think of it. I just haven't celebrated that in quite a long time. It was, like, just another day to me, you know?"

"Oh, I got quite a bit that day." I draped my arms over his shoulders. He kissed me and I melted into him.

As he let me go he said, "You know, I bet we could get a good view of Saturn." Oh, Monroe and his ADD. He moved over to the telescope, adjusting more knobs and angling the telescope. "Yeah, here we go. Saturn… now that's the celestial Lord of the Rings right there. Check this out."

I came up beside him as he moved from the telescope. The rings were easy to see and I smiled.

"Whoa," said Monroe as I turned away from the lens. "We better eat before the food gets warm."

Monroe led me over to the blanket and we reclined, munching on sandwiches of spinach, avocado, and feta along with an assortment of fruit as we gazed overhead. A blanket of stars sparkled and shined above us. It was a magical night. We sipped on wine while picking out constellations here and there.

"So, the one near Jupiter and Venus, that's Taurus," said Monroe as he pointed up. "The red star is…"

"Aldebaran. The eye of the bull," I cut in.

"Hey, you know your stars."

"I love astronomy," I replied. "I memorized the constellations and their major stars in grade school. When I'd go out running at night, many times afterward I'd find a clearing in the woods and just sit and stare up in perfect silence at the stars."

Just then a bright, shooting star jetted halfway across the sky, trailing a brilliant iridescence of light.

"Make a wish," said Monroe. I closed my eyes. I wished he'd say it… say it tonight. Those three words. "That's a pretty big smile you have," Monroe commented and I opened my eyes to his grin. "What did you wish for?"

"If I tell you, it won't come true."

He laughed at my smirk. "Oh, I see. So I don't get to know?"

I shook my head. "Rules are rules."

"And here I thought you were a rule breaker," he replied while leaning on his elbow and resting his head on his hand.

I edged closer. "Oh, I am, but this one I can't risk," I said coyly. "I want it to come true." God, I loved that man.

Monroe glanced behind him. "Did you just see a flicker of light somewhere?"

I shook my head. "No."

"I thought I saw something reflect off your eyes."

I chuckled. "Maybe you've had too much wine."

"It would take more than a few glasses for me to start seeing things."

I looked past Monroe again. "I don't see anything."

"Hmm… Must have been my imagination. Weird."

I set aside our plates and moved in close toward Monroe, resting my head against his chest. We laced our fingers together and talked more about stars and astronomy. Snuggling and cuddling. We were back to nice, normal coupledom.

"Renée."

"Um-Hmm."

"There's been something I've been wanting to tell you," he said, stroking my hair. "For a while, actually. And, I mean, I... We've both gone though quite a bit this past month, you know? But I think, it's like, really brought us closer… And, well… I brought you out here tonight because…" Monroe paused as he jerked upright. I rolled off of him onto the blanket.

"Whoa, are you okay?" I asked a bit dazed. Why had he stopped? He was going to say it. Oh, my God. But he stopped. No…

Monroe sniffed the air and groaned. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me." He turned his attention toward the woods behind us.

"What is it?" I turned my head hastily in the direction Monroe was looking. What was he staring at?

"Okay, I know I said no running," he looked back my way, "but we're gonna have to run. There's another Blutbad in the woods and he's nearby."

"Another Blutbad?" Holy hell! My eyes widened and I darted them back to the wooded area.

The faint sound of branches breaking stopped my breath.

"Yeah, well, maybe he's closer than I thought." Monroe's voice went up an octave.

I clambered up and we grabbed our things quickly. Racing to the VW, we opened the doors and tossed everything in the back seat. The growls emitted first before a shadowy figure moved against the discernible shape of the trees.

"Look, man, you didn't have this place marked, so you have no right to be angry," Monroe said aloud to the shadowy figure looming close. "But we're leaving, okay? So you can go back to doing… Well, whatever it is you're doing out here."

Intense red eyes emerged from the black form and they'd burned into me. The eyes seemed to get bigger. Crap, they were bigger because they were headed in my direction. The Blutbad hadn't responded to Monroe, but he was about to get up close and personal with me. The fear in me rose, and although I tried to push it back, I was unsuccessful.

"Renée, get in the car," Monroe ordered, but I was frozen in place.

The Blutbad was extremely close and visible now. I focused on his large frame, all massive and lofty. My head snapped back to his red eyes, burning with a scarlet fury and intent on watching me.

"I'll just take this instead," the Blutbad's deep, guttural voice hissed like a snake. My skin prickled all over at the words. Was he referring to me?

Monroe had a full woge and was on top of him before he could say anything more. Two sets of glowing red eyes moved about in the darkness. I reached for the headlight button in the car. A bright light cast a glow on both Blutbaden as they gripped one another. The Blutbad's paws hit Monroe square in the chest knocking him backward. Monroe struck back, taking him to the ground. Monstrous growls and snarls pierced my ears as they wrestled for control, fighting like dogs, and rolling across the grass.

The other Blutbad bit into Monroe and he howled loudly. Monroe clamped down hard in retaliation which seemed to halt the Blutbad as he wailed and moaned while backing up. The cowardice was brief and he lunged forward, taking Monroe down on the ground.

My reckless woge shot out of me. I couldn't watch this any longer. I had to do something! Ducking my head into the open VW, I pulled the seat back, searching for anything I could use. The umbrella caught my eye. I grabbed it from the floorboard and practically ran toward the two battling Wesen. Monroe was still pinned to the ground and was staving off the fangs of the other Blutbad, who had his head angled, ready to finish him off.

As hard as I could, I sharply jabbed the Blutbad in the lower part of his spine where I'd read about the vulnerable cluster of nerves. The Blutbad rapidly arched backward and let out a deafening howl, giving Monroe the opportunity to take him down. He bit into his arm and the Blutbad writhed in pain. Escaping from Monroe's jaws, he staggered back into the woods as quick as he could go, which wasn't all that fast considering what had been done to him.

I dropped the umbrella and let out the breath I could've sworn I'd been holding in the entire time. My body tried to give out as my woge ended, but I told it no. I didn't need to pass out again. I could control this. Passing out every time I had an encounter just wasn't going to cut it. I took another deep breath in as Monroe approached and held me.

He was having trouble standing, but asked between breaths, "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fighting it," I breathed out as I leaned forward to let the light-headedness settle. Monroe rested his hand on my back. His ripped jeans were covered in blood.

Oh, my God. Your leg!" I exclaimed.

"He got a good bite in, but mine was better." There was a smug tone to Monroe's voice. He reached for the umbrella. "I really hate to rush ya, but that dude isn't going to be too happy here in a minute."

Monroe was hobbling quite a bit as we dashed back to the car.

"Here, let me drive," I insisted as I helped him walk over to the passenger side.

"The Beetle is a stick shift, Hun," he said.

"I know. I can drive a stick."

"You can?" He sounded mildly surprised.

"Yeah, my dad taught me. He said every woman ought to know how to drive a stick. And now I see that knowledge actually comes in handy."

"Your dad was a smart man." Monroe smiled at me then winced again as he positioned his leg in the car.

"Maybe we should take you to the hospital. We can tell them it was a dog bite."

"Yeah, uh, no. I'll be fine, really. I've had worse, lemme tell ya." I didn't want to think about Monroe having something worse than this. I pulled the VW out and got us back on the road.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked as we drove back toward the city. "We've got to clean that wound."

"Uh, yeah," he replied quickly. I turned and tried not to gape at Monroe's mouth which was caked with blood. "So, you weren't kidding when you said you'd been reading the books, huh?" I couldn't decipher his tone. Was he mad?

"I just reacted. He was so big and I thought he was going to kill you," I said softly.

"It's not the size of the Blutbad in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the Blutbad," he replied with a smirk.

"Mark Twain didn't write that as a literal statement. And it wasn't about Blutbaden."

"I had it under control."

"Could've fooled me. It looked like he was going to rip your throat out."

Monroe let a sigh pass before he said, "That's not how it works. We were asserting our dominance. Having my girlfriend intervene doesn't exactly scream Alpha, if you know what I mean." He groaned as he held his leg. "I could've handled it."

"I didn't want to take that risk, I'm sorry. It just looked like..."

"Maybe you need to start trusting me instead of reading books." I understood that tone. I had offended him. It seemed I'd struck two nerves tonight.

"I was just trying to get him off of you. I didn't mean to emasculate you." My voice was a bit exasperated. Apparently I had crossed some Blutbad line.

"I guess I'm going to have some things to share at my next meeting."

I drove us back to his house and helped him inside. Monroe lay down on the couch.

"Take your pants off," I instructed. "Do you have a first aid kit?"

"Hall closet," he said as he managed to get undressed. When I returned with supplies, I sucked in my breath at the bite.

"Oh, Monroe. Honey…"

"Eh, I'll live."

The wound was beyond severe. I knelt beside him and gave him a damp wash cloth.

"This is for your…" I gestured toward the blood on his mouth.

"Huh? Oh… that. Yeah," he sighed as he wiped his face with the cloth.

I applied hydrogen peroxide to a gauze pad and lightly applied the soaked pad to his wound.

He grunted loudly. "Hey! Owww!"

"Sorry, it's going to sting. We could still go to the hospital."

"No, I'll suffer though this."

I worked on treating the bite, taking great care to make sure it didn't get infected. Once that was completely bandaged, I helped him out of his sweater. Oh, that poor sweater. It was ripped and shredded in places. Well, he wasn't going to be wearing that one again anytime soon. Sadly, I set it aside and inspected the rest of the damage. Monroe had a few scrapes and scratches along his arms. I went to treating what I could as Monroe winced some more.

"If this bite doesn't look better in the morning, I'll schedule you a doctor's appointment," I warned, kissing him gently. Even after wiping away the blood, the metallic coppery flavor coated his lips. "Nick says Juliette is a vet. Maybe she makes house visits."

Monroe rolled his eyes. "Not funny," he said with a groan.

"I'm sorry if I interfered in something I apparently don't understand." I looked down a moment. This is where Chloe would separate us harshly. Monroe took a finger to my chin, lifting it up to look at me with his deep brown eyes.

"I know you meant well, but I'm your protector. Not the other way around."

Was that part of the mating ritual, too? I was his mate, so maybe that meant he had to fight for me. I wanted to ask, but I wasn't going to bring up the Grimm books again. Not tonight.

"This, umm, really wasn't how I was envisioning this night would go," Monroe continued. "That dude messed up my plans big time."

"So, what were your plans?" I asked him. He was going to say it out there, but then…

"Uhh… It can wait," he heavily sighed and closed his eyes. I hid my disappointment. He could still say it. It didn't need a blanket of stars and a glass of wine. I silently willed him to continue, but it didn't work. "Damn, we didn't even get to the chocolate covered strawberries. Those need to go in the fridge before the chocolate melts."

"I'll get the basket out of the car soon," I assured him. "Can I get you some tea? A pillow?" I offered. Monroe shook his head.

"There's a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue in the bottom kitchen cabinet. Can you grab that?"

I nodded slowly. Whisky? Well, okay then. I stood and went to the kitchen, searching until I found the bottle. I grabbed a glass and added some ice.

When I returned, Monroe was gripping his head with his hand. I approached cautiously. He flinched as I touched his arm.

"What can I get you for the pain?" I asked.

"You've got it right in your hand," he replied. "But I don't need the ice. Or the glass for that matter."

"Blue label. That's a high class whisky to drink out of the bottle." I twisted open the lid and passed it to him. "Is there anything else I can get you for the pain… besides this?"

"Nah, this oughta do it."

I slumped down on the rug by the couch while Monroe downed the longest swig I'd ever seen. He didn't take a breath. I felt drunk just watching him.

He looked up at me. "It'll just take the edge off, I won't be drunk from this."

"From what? That swig?"

"No, from this bottle."

"You're going to drink…the whole thing?"

He gave me a stiff smile through his pain. "I told you it takes a lot to get me drunk."

"A whole bottle _is_ a lot… It's verging on alcohol poisoning."

"Not to us." A smirk formed on his lips. "Wasn't that in the book?"

I raised an eyebrow. "No, for some odd reason the Grimms didn't recount their nights out partying and drinking with their Blutbad buddies."

"Okay, well maybe that kinda thing wouldn't be as well known as some of the other things."

Other things… like mating rituals. I held my tongue. No, not going there tonight.

He took another long swig. "Why don't you get the things out of the car, okay? I'm gonna work on this." He placed his finger to my lip. "Hey, I'll be fine. Don't frown."

Of course I was going to frown. I was still shaking on the inside. He could've died tonight. So could I.

I reached for a couple of pillows and put one behind his head and the other under his leg. He didn't protest. I kissed him before I went to the car. Just the taste of his lips gave me a buzz.

After putting everything away, I resumed my position on the carpet by the couch. I wanted to comfort Monroe. He was the maimed one this time. While I wasn't going to 'kiss it better,' I needed to know he was going to be okay. Funny how getting whacked by a dragon warranted a trip to the ER, but when a wolf had bitten a chunk out of him, we just went to his place instead. Maybe I should've pressed the issue. I idly stroked his arm as the whisky in the bottle diminished.

"What are you thinking about?" Monroe asked. I looked up and he was staring at me intently. He must have been watching the gears whirling in my brain.

"Sorry. I'm just worried about your leg. The emergency room isn't too far away. I'm sure there's a great '80s flick playing in the waiting room tonight." I forced a smile at him.

Monroe pulled me close and kissed my forehead. "You know, as much as I would love another waiting room movie night, I think I'll pass. Besides, they won't let me take the bottle with me."

I laughed as a few tears fell.

"Hey, now don't cry. It's just a bite." It was a gaping wound. That's what it was. "I promise I'll be okay. Why don't we find a movie and just relax here."

We sat and watched _Annie Hall_ as we finished our picnic in the living room. I fed him chocolate covered strawberries as he sipped his whisky and I had some wine.

"Do these even taste good with that?" I asked him as he took another strawberry into his mouth followed by a drink.

"It's not bad. The sweetness of the strawberries blend well with the spicy undertone of the whisky. Or I'm just a little tipsy and I don't care."

I bit into another strawberry as Alvy said to Annie by the bridge, "Love is too weak a word for what I feel — I luuurve you, you know? I loave you, I luff you… two F's. Yes, I have to invent."

Alvy made a good point, even if he was just being funny. I loved Monroe something crazy. But the word 'love' just wasn't enough to really describe what I felt for this man. Too weak of a word. I rested my head back into the couch as I crossed my legs on the floor. All the terrible things that had happened, like with the Blutbad tonight, and with the Daemonfeuer, and the Reapers, and even with Jack… Well, he'd done more in the last month than the words 'I love you' could ever convey. We'd say it eventually, just not tonight. Tonight he proved it without saying a thing.

The strawberries and the whisky were gone as the movie ended.

"How are you feeling?"

"Good. Yeah… mellowed out."

"Not drunk?"

"Nope. Just mellow."

After Monroe waved off all my other offers to make him feel better, I gave him another kiss that took my breath away. Literally… It was like kissing a distillery. But if he felt better, then I didn't mind all that much.

"I want to thank you for what you did tonight," I said as I looked into his half-lidded eyes. They were flickering russet. He was definitely mellow. "I realize it didn't go the way you wanted, but it was all just a really sweet gesture. And the things you said before… I want you to know I agree, and we're so much closer now with everything that's happened... and this month with you has been wonderful, despite everything else."

Monroe brushed his fingers through my hair and held my face. "Happy Lunar-versary," he said and shook his head with a chuckle. "At least this'll be something lunar I can look forward to celebrating."

* * *

A/N: Aww, Monroe's plans were kinda ruined. And the gray sweater has died... Noooo!

STAY TUNED!


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

The next few days I was going to work from home. Well, I was going to work from Monroe's home while playing nurse. I'd called in a favor to Daniel to sub in on my trainings.

"So, if I do these for you, what do I get in return?" Daniel asked with his smug grin permeating though the receiver.

"The joy of helping out a colleague in need." I was in no mood to say it sweetly.

"Now come on, Davenport. I'm sure you can do better than that."

My cheeks burned at his arrogance. "I'll sub in for you when you need a day off. How's that?"

"Dinner in Denver."

"Daniel, really?" I scoffed. "You know I'm in a relationship. Why do you keep doing this?"

"It's just dinner. Nothing more, nothing less. I promise."

I shook my head. "Fine. Dinner one night. Nothing else."

"It's a date." He was sporting that boy next door smile of his right now, no doubt. "Email me your PowerPoints, and I hope that boyfriend of yours feels better soon."

I didn't bother to thank him. I scowled as I hung up the phone. Tall, Dark, and Arrogant was such an ass. God, what the hell was I setting myself up for? No sense worrying over it now. Maybe by June he'd forget all about it. I peeked into the living room. Good, Monroe was still deep asleep on the couch. He didn't need to hear that I was making deals with the devil.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

As the days passed, surprisingly Monroe's wound was getting better. But I was still pushing a trip to the doctor. By Sunday, he was up and moving about the house, pent up with energy.

Your routine is all messed up," I sighed.

"Nah, it'll be fine," he assured me. "I've stayed on my diet thanks to you."

"What thanks? I steamed vegetables and bought take out Chinese."

"Hey, it worked," he chuckled. "But I don't want to see another spring roll for a long while."

My cell phone rang before I could say anything else. I picked it up off of Monroe's coffee table. Nick's name flashed on the screen. Nick had been checking in on Monroe since the incident and had even come over to check in on him a few times. I answered the phone.

"So, how's the bite today?"

"Well, our Blutbad is moving about the house again."

"Good to hear it. Do you think you'd be free to come by here in a bit?"

"Umm, possibly. What's going on?"

"Well, I really don't want to discuss it over the phone, but it concerns your parents."

"My parents?"

"Yeah, just come by and I'll talk with you then."

"Did Nick say your parents?" Monroe asked as he reentered the living room. He set down two mugs on the coffee table.

I ran my hand through my hair. "Yeah."

"Well, you go on. I've got things to do here, and I'm feeling like I could get in a Pilates workout, maybe two."

"Now don't hurt yourself," I quickly warned. "That place on your leg hasn't healed completely yet."

Monroe gave me a kiss. "I know my limits."

"If that wound opens up we're going to the doctor and I won't take no for an answer."

"Okay, okay. I'll take it easy." He motioned me on with his hands. "You go on and go over there."

I lifted one of the mugs from the table. "I'm drinking this first."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

"So I've been digging through your parent's case." Nick's face was serious as he held a file folder in his hands. "How much do you want to know about what happened?" His blue-green eyes told me it was going to be gruesome.

"Everything," I answered, "I want to know everything." After the things I'd witnessed recently, I deserved to know the truth.

Nick motioned to the trailer bed. "I think you ought to sit down for this." I perched on the edge of the bed, not because I wanted to, but because I didn't want Nick to hold anything back. Nick sat down in the desk chair and pulled it close beside me.

"On August 30th police entered the home of Walter and Suzanne Archer after receiving a call from a neighbor who'd heard gunshots fired," he began as he read from the file folder. He looked up. "Both vics were found dead and positioned on the couch, but from the blood splatter that's not where they were murdered."

"Someone moved them there?" I just shook my head. How demented.

"It's not uncommon," Nick simply replied. He of all people would've seen something like that before. "The news article you printed out mentioned that both of your parents had been shot at close range to the head," he continued while pointing to the newspaper copy, "but that would be difficult to determine considering the coroner's report stated that your mother was decapitated."

I put my hand to my mouth and gasped. I wasn't able to hold my reaction back. "Decapitated?" The word quavered from my mouth. My hands moved to my neck as I tried to compose myself.

"Renée, you said you wanted to know," Nick reminded me and I nodded in reply.

It wasn't easy to think that someone had cut off my mom's head. I didn't want the mental image and I tried to erase it from my mind.

"No, I'm fine," I replied while evening my tone. "Go on."

"The M.E. stated that the cut was a single, clean slice across the neck. It was made by a large, sharp instrument." Nick looked up at me as he said that.

"So, it was Reapers," I managed to say as I recalled holding the scythe in my hands. The sharp blade would've gone through anything.

"I can only assume, but it appears that way."

Did my dad know these details? He had as much access to these types of records as Nick did. Maybe that was why he worked so hard to fake my birth records. To anyone else this had to look insane for anyone to cut off another person's head. It was insane to me and I was privy to much more information.

"Please, go on," I encouraged, taking a slow breath in to allow my practiced calm to take over. I wanted to know what happened. I couldn't let the severity of the incident hold me back.

"Your dad was shot once in the head just as the article mentioned," Nick said in the same tone as someone talking about the weather. "The reports state that the shot was more than close range. From the ballistics report the gun was pressed against the vic's left temple by the apparent powder burns."

He said it so easily. Must be nice to be immune to these things. But given his job, something like this was probably routine. Regardless, it was unnerving how emotionally unattached he was about the details. I kept my calm and let him continue.

"They traced the 9mm bullet they extracted from the vic to a Luger Parabellum 08, which wasn't a current model. The company that manufactured the bullets was Deutsche Waffen und Munit…"

Nick let me look at the words on the page. "Deutsche Waffen und Munitionsfabriken. German Weapons and Munitions Factory."

"So, this company made these bullets back in the early 1900s. I checked with a friend in our ballistics department. Most of these weapons had silencers. So if this was like most weapons…"

"Then how did a neighbor hear the shot?" I chimed in.

"Exactly. So there may have been something else going on other than just a concerned call to police."

"But this doesn't make sense," I said. "A Reaper carrying a gun? I just don't see that."

"I admit, the scythe of that one Reaper that came at me seemed like enough of a weapon on its own," Nick replied with a heavy sigh. "But here's where it gets even stranger. Time of death didn't match the first vic. The M.E. stated there was at least a two hour difference between the decapitation and the head shot."

"Two hours? It must have been two different people… two killers."

Nick nodded. "It's leaning toward that."

"But why… how?"

"Maybe your mom was the only one home when the Reaper came for her. Then your dad came home later and the shooter was waiting for him."

I closed my eyes for a moment. I tried to think without getting emotional. A Reaper comes for a Grimm. Then her human husband comes home, finds her dead, but then there's this other killer who just happens to be there to shoot him? Why kill my dad? What's the point? No, I couldn't be as immune as Nick was. I opened my eyes and shook the thoughts out.

I pointed to the copy of the newspaper article. "It said nothing was missing. Is that what the file says?" I'd find something else to ask instead.

"There was at least one room that was searched, but the rest of the house was untouched according to the police reports. The room was described as a library and the report says it was in 'complete disarray.'"

"Could it have been Grimm books they were looking for?"

Nick shrugged. "We can only speculate at this point, but it's as good of a hypothesis as any."

"Did the file mention me in any way?"

"A child wasn't mentioned in any of the incident reports." He shook his head. "You must have been someplace else when it happened."

"It doesn't make sense. I was a month old and my parents were home. Where else would I have been?" I was asking more aloud than directly to Nick.

"The newspaper article mentioned family. Maybe they had another family member in Louisville looking after you?"

"I don't know of any family. And if that's the case, then why didn't this family member take me in when my parents died instead of some friends of theirs?" I was trying hard to figure out the puzzle, but none of it was fitting.

"Hard to say," Nick solemnly replied. "If this was a recent case, I'd suggest we go back and interview the neighbors and friends."

"Well, their friends were my adoptive parents. Maybe I can talk to my mom again. See if she remembers anything."

"It's important you don't say too much."

I nodded. "I can word it in a way that doesn't sound too suspicious."

"We had a case a few months back of a missing girl that had vanished ten years ago. Did Monroe ever tell you about Holly Clark?"

I nodded. "The teenage Blutbad in the woods? Yeah."

"Well, that was a cold case, too, but even then we were lucky to find the information we did to put her abductor behind bars. But this one…This case is almost thirty years old. It's going to be hard to get anything substantial after that amount of time." Nick finally showed me some remorse as he put his hand on my shoulder. "But if we can find a missing girl after ten years, then anything is possible."

"There's got to be something else to help us. Were there any suspects mentioned in the report?"

"It doesn't list anyone as a suspect. There are general notes about interviewing family and friends, but it doesn't list the names. A neighbor reported a black Caprice, but they didn't get a license plate or enough detail to determine anything more. A trace amount of DNA was found, but it wasn't in the database to match it to anyone."

"DNA? Well then there's hope, right?"

"Like I said, it's been thirty years. Finding these guys, if they're even still alive, is slim to none. There's still a lot of gaps in this." He waved the folder out in his hand. "No wonder it went cold."

"It's fine, Nick. I wasn't really expecting we'd have all the answers from a few reports." I was hoping we'd get at least something significant, but the case was cold for a reason. I tried to hide my disappointment.

"There may still be some evidence we can use, I'm not giving up yet." Nick forced a smile my way as he closed the file folder and laid it on the desk.

"I appreciate what you've done so far," I said while leaning back into the trailer bed. Had knowing all this really helped me at all? If anything, it made me more on edge. These guys were serious and I had averted two Reapers already. Would the next batch they sent after me be more successful? I shuddered to think.

"I'm still trying to get answers about my parents, too." Nick let out a sigh. "We're both in the dark, I'm afraid." He ran a hand across his thick bangs.

"I appreciate that you tried. None of this is easy to deal with."

"If I learn more I'll let you know. For now, just be careful."

"Yeah, we both need to be careful."

* * *

A/N: Okay, so a bit more info on what happened to Renée's real parents. Some things may sound vaguely familiar... Hmm?


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

Nick's information had me thinking about family on the ride back. Did I have family in Louisville… biological family? Maybe Mom knew some lost relative that I could talk to. Why hadn't I thought about this before? My brain was pretty loaded those few days in Louisville. Now that I had some time to think, all these questions were coming up.

I called Monroe and updated him on what Nick had found. Tonight I was going to stay at my house. He and I needed a day off after the last few days and Monroe was well enough to be on his own.

Once I got inside, I gave my mom a call on the phone instead of the computer. I didn't want her to see my face right now. We went through general conversation before I approached the question that was really on my mind.

"So, Mom, I have to ask… do I have any family I should know about?" I posed the question cautiously.

"No, I'm sorry, Sweetie. Dennis said he checked when we first took you in. Your grandparents passed on years ago."

"What about my mom's sister?"

"Dennis checked that, too, and he couldn't find any living blood relatives from what he'd told me. I'm really sorry, Renée."

"Any family on my dad's side?"

"Walter never mentioned any siblings, but I don't recall him bringing up family at all. It was such a long time ago. You may have cousins. I never thought about that. It's possible."

Perhaps Chloe could find something. She'd been able to trace the Morder lineage, but nothing she'd sent me had names of children.

"Mom, thanks anyway. I really miss you."

"I'm counting down the days until May," she said sweetly.

After Mom and I had finished talking, I called up Chloe and filled her in.

"Girl, your family history isn't easy. It's like someone is hiding things on purpose. Records are missing from places where they should be available. Honestly, that I found as much as I have has been a challenge. And you know I love a challenge when it comes to research. But this… Damn."

"Well, Suzanne had a sister, and family was mentioned in the newspaper article. But after talking to Nick, so many things in that article weren't very accurate. It's hard to know what's true and what isn't."

"I have a few ideas on getting more info on your dad. Remember that article we found about him volunteering in California? Well, I have a lead or two that might give us a city name. Let me see what else I can find on the Archer side. Could be his side of the family they were referring to."

"You know I appreciate you, Chloe."

"I know," she said smugly.

"How are you and Harvey?" I asked.

"I don't wanna talk about it," she sighed. "After our pointless date last weekend, I'm beginning to think he's built like a Ken doll, but then to know for sure he'd actually have to remove some of his clothes."

I laughed. "You still haven't…?"

"No, Renée. I haven't been this chaste since… Okay, since never. We've kissed, so at least I know he doesn't want to just be friends. But the kisses are…" she groaned. "They're simple and there's no va-va-voom behind them. And when I try to rev it up, he backs away and bids me a goodnight like some cheesy black and white film."

"What if he's trying to take it slow and do the whole courting thing? Maybe the va-va-voom will come later."

"If it's much later then I'll be telling him to va-va-moose," she chuckled. "In three weeks it won't matter. I'll be basking on the beach in Florida. If he and I don't work out, I'll just find myself some sexy surfer to occupy my time."

"But a beach bunny is temporary," I reasoned. "Don't give up on Harvey just yet." Chloe deserved a nice guy. Something long-lasting. I wanted her to feel what I was feeling. Monroe and I hadn't said the words, but love was there and it was wonderful.

"The clock is ticking. Three weeks. And if he hasn't moved this relationship from a cheesy black and white movie to a raunchy flick in vivid color, then it's over," she said adamantly. "So enough about my pathetic love life. Let's discuss yours. Is Monroe still behaving himself?"

"He hasn't eaten anyone, if that's what you mean."

Chloe snorted, "Not that you know of, right?"

I shook my head even though she couldn't see it. It wasn't worth a reply. Instead, I told her about the romantic stargazing picnic, leaving out the gruesome parts. I'd wanted to tell her after it happened, but since I'd been at Monroe's the last few times we'd talked on the phone, our chats were edited.

"He was going to say it, Chloe. But then he stopped," I sighed. Granted the Blutbad had stopped him, but she didn't have to know that.

"Then why don't you just say it? You know you want to."

"Oh, I want to more than anything. But I can't just throw it out there. Eventually Monroe will say it. I really want him to say it first."

"You just want the fairy tale, Renée," she sighed. "You want me to play some romantic music and you two run toward each other in slow motion through an open field somewhere? Would that make it perfect for you?"

"Maybe when it's warmer," I laughed.

"If you love him, then tell him. Unlike me you've got the va-va-voom. But you know my thoughts about his kind, Renée. Although you won't take my advice, I'll say it again. You need to watch yourself before you give your heart away to a Blutbad. I just don't trust him."

"Oh, you're still mad over dinner that night at my mom's."

"He was purposefully trying to get under my skin, and that doesn't win him any votes in my opinion."

"Hopefully in May you two will bury the hatchet and get along." At least they could pretend to get along. I'd even take that over what had happened before.

"Who knows where his hatchet has been already?" she grimaced through the phone.

"Now you're just being dramatic."

"Dramatic? He pointed a knife at me, and you're calling me dramatic."

I rolled my eyes. "He was joking. Granted it wasn't the funniest joke, but he wasn't being serious."

"You better believe it wasn't funny," she replied hotly. "And don't roll your eyes at me. I know you are." That direct link to my brain was a curse sometimes. "So, is everything else okay in Portland?"

"Yeah, everything is fine."

Chloe paused like she was sifting my words through her built-in lie detector. "And you and Monroe are okay? Nothing you need to share with me?"

"He's fine… We're both just fine," I said coolly.

"Okay," she drawled out the word. "Just as long as you're keeping out of trouble."

"We're doing our best." It wasn't our fault trouble kept finding us instead.

* * *

A/N: Aww, poor Chloe and her relationship woes.

Hope you're enjoying the story so far. Thanks for the comments, they mean a lot! I love comments, it keeps me motivated. LOL. Keep 'em coming!


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

Most of Monday was spent with Daniel in my office going over training materials. Needless to say, I was thankful when five o'clock arrived. Monroe was doing much better and had come over for the evening. He'd been stuck in the house for days, so a change of venue was good for him. Monroe needed to catch up on work, so he left my house shortly after dinner. I didn't mind, since I had some things to work on at the house.

My phone rang that night as I was watching an old rerun of _I Love Lucy_. The cell phone display read Nick Burkhardt. That man needed his own ring tone.

"Hello?" I answered while glancing at the clock. It was past ten.

"Renée. Are you free tonight?" he asked.

"I'm in my PJs," I remarked.

"Oh, I wanted to see if you could meet me here at the trailer. I've got this section on…"

"It's kinda late, Nick." I cut him off. "Why don't you call Monroe?"

"I already did. He's working on some clock that has to be done tonight."

"Right, the Elgin."

"What's that?"

"It's a brand of wristwatch. Can't this wait until tomorrow?"

"Look, it's just for an hour or so, and it's not _that_ late."

I rolled my eyes at the phone. "Okay. One hour and then I've gotta go home."

"Good. Bring your laptop. I'll see you soon."

As I hung up the phone I looked down at my PJs. My warm, comfortable PJs. Shaking my head, I let out a hard sigh. I changed into a sweater and jeans and grabbed my jacket and my laptop as I headed to my Malibu. I was getting used to the route to the trailer in the seedy parking lot. I hooked up my MP3 player and put on some Jackson Browne.

"_Running on,__  
__Running on Empty.__  
__Looking out at the road rushing under my wheels.__  
__I don't know how to tell you all just how crazy this life feels…"_

God, I was tired. If it wasn't for my curiosity I would've just told Nick I was staying in for the night. But it was hard to say no to the opportunity to read though centuries of Wesen history. Nick's trailer was growing on me. It was fantastic, as long as I blocked out the murdering of Wesen part. I'd love to stay a whole day in there, just absorbing everything like a sponge. At least if I had my laptop I could add to the database I'd been compiling.

Nick was waiting for me and the door opened on the first knock. His 'must be done tonight' question was a German section on Jägerbars. I Google'd what I couldn't translate and added it to the database, along with a paper copy for the book.

"I've been reviewing some of these Wesen I've seen, and since you're here, maybe we can discuss what you've seen, too. I'd like to know if there's anything more I can add to these records."

"Sure, we can… discuss," I replied, using his word.

"Okay then. Well, since we're on the topic of Jägerbars, have you seen one?" He asked, turning the book around and pointing to the accurate sketch on the page.

I strained a laugh. "Yeah, I've encountered them." I told him about my experience in college.

"You were chased by four of them?" Nick was as wide-eyed as Monroe had been. "It sounds like a roh-hatz," he added.

"I don't think it was ceremonial as much as getting revenge on my threats," I replied. "It wasn't a pleasant experience."

I moved the laptop from the trailer bed to the other side of the desk and we went through the notes from the book. Most I knew, some things were new and I found the personal accounts of distant ancestors really interesting to read.

"Oh! I have one of the disemboweling weapons!" Nick said triumphantly as he shot up from the desk chair and walked over to the wooden cabinet. There were those murderous culminations of weapons again. I held back a sigh.

Nick returned with a weapon in his hand and laid it on top of the book. It was old and resembled a bear claw, much like the sketch in the book had detailed. The top of the handle was whittled to resemble a bear's head. I really had no inclination to touch it. Who knew how many people or Wesen had been gutted with that thing? I certainly didn't want my hands near it.

Nick grinned as he leaned against the desk. "I bet you've never seen one of these up close."

"No, you've got me there." I raised an eyebrow, poking at it with an ink pen.

"This family of Jägerbars had one in a display case in their living room," he said as he told me about the bears that had their own roh-hatz with a couple who broke into their house.

"So, they still have those? I thought that was just an old world rite of passage."

"It usually is, but there are some that still practice it. Fortunately, we found their victims in time."

I shook my head. I knew about many things, but I was feeling naïve compared to what Nick had witnessed in the few short months of being able to see the 'other world.' Maybe I was assuming too much about Nick's inexperience. He was right in the thick of it.

"So what do you know about Lowen?" he asked as he turned to the section in another book and sat back down.

I went over my basic knowledge. "The night in that barn was the first time I'd actually encountered one."

I shared the details about the Lowen Games from rescuing Monroe and the cattle prod, to getting tied up.

"Leo Taymor tied you to a chair?"

I nodded. Was that his name? And here Chloe thought her parents hated her for naming her Clover.

"Fortunately I'm good with ropes, or I may have been the next contestant in that Gladiator ring." I shook my head at the thought.

"I almost missed my anniversary dinner because of that guy," Nick sighed. "And then after all that, he got away."

I tried to not think about that Lowen still lurking around.

"How long have you and Juliette been together?" I asked to change the subject.

"A little over three years." He looked around the trailer. "Not being able to share all this with her has been…" He paused as he let out a breath. "I'm not used to keeping secrets from her."

"Nick, if you brought her in here and showed her this stuff, she'd think you were certifiable."

"She's seen the trailer."

My eyes widened. "She's been in here?"

Nick nodded. "Yeah. When Aunt Marie first brought the trailer over, we both looked around. At the time we thought my aunt was just eccentric."

"This is a bit more than eccentric," I grinned.

"I still want to tell her. I just don't know any way to do it where she'll believe me."

"Like I said before, you just have to wait until an opportunity presents itself. If you just drag her in here and expect she's going to understand, then…"

"Yeah, I know." He cut me off. "I just don't want lose her."

I smiled up at him. "Juliette isn't going anywhere."

I tried to stay positive for his sake. Keeping these secrets hidden from the ones we loved wasn't easy. In my experience it was best if they didn't know. Not that I hadn't felt the same way Nick did at one time or another. This secret had put a strain on the relationships I'd had in the past. Sometimes I'd come home to Jack and want to talk to him the way I could with Chloe and my other Wesen friends. But that was just part of myself I couldn't share. After trying to explain it to people as a child and having to go to therapy because of my 'delusions,' I'd come to realize that there was a reason Wesen couldn't be seen by the human eye. People just weren't ready to comprehend such a thing.

Nick flipped to another page in the journal. "So, Spinnetods?"

Four books later we had talked about everything from Spiders and Goats to Snakes. We kept swapping stories back and forth and the conversation was nonstop.

I looked down at my bare wrist. I hadn't had time to put my watch on before coming over. "What time is it?" I asked.

"Nick looked down at his cell phone and made a face. "You don't want to know," he said.

"Is it past midnight?" I asked.

"Uh, it's two-fifteen."

"No way. It can't be that late!" I exclaimed. I stood so I could see the clock on the back of the trailer. Sure enough it was indeed that late. "I've really gotta go. I have a meeting at seven and two trainings tomorrow back to back." I put my hand to my head. Boy, I was going to be exhausted tomorrow. I packed up quickly.

Nick stood up and was behind me as I grabbed my coat from the trailer bed.

"I'm glad you came over tonight." He stopped as he looked at me. "We oughta to do this more often."

"We really should," I agreed. "It's good to have someone else to talk to about this." I patted his shoulder. "I'm happy the secrets are over between us."

Nick had that goofy, toothy grin of his. "I'll probably be here again tomorrow if you wanna stop by. I have plenty of books to keep us occupied. That database is really growing."

"Yeah, I ought to be able to do that," I replied with my genuine smile. "Just give me a call."

Actually I was looking forward to working on the Grimm Google database again. Maybe I'd been too quick to judge Nick Burkhardt. We had quite a bit in common, and not just the Grimm thing. Tonight we had both learned a few things. On the drive home, I switched out Nick's ringtone to Dire Straits' 'Private Investigation.'

"_This is my investigation; it's not a public inquiry.__  
__I go checking out the reports, digging up the dirt.__  
__You get to meet all sorts in this line of work …"_

* * *

A/N: Nick and Renée might not be buddies yet, but Renée is seeing him in a better light.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

The next day I was a zombie at work. I dozed off at least once during my meeting and I mixed up my trainings. Twenty minutes into my presentation, I had one employee raise his hand and ask why they were being taught about banking securities. I almost snapped, 'Because this is what you'll be doing for the company,' until I realized this class was supposed to be on private equity. I was annoyed it took twenty minutes for someone to speak up.

The rest of the day fell into the same pattern, so I snuck off to Starbucks and got a double espresso to survive. I sat outside, savoring the caffeine while I went through my calendar on my phone. Spring. It was spring! In my daze I'd completely forgotten. A smile washed over me at the thought. Winter was over and now things were going to be better. My smile lasted through the rest of my day, but then the exhaustion set back in when it was time to go home.

At five I shut down my computer, crawled across the parking lot to my Malibu, and fell into the driver's seat. I leaned my head back. Perhaps I could just take a nap here first. My eyelids drooped. I shook off the sleepiness, and once I arrived home, I collapsed on the couch without so much as taking off my heels. I got five minutes at the most before the phone rang.

"Are you home yet?" Monroe asked.

"Uh-huh," I mumbled into my cell.

"You okay, Hun?" Monroe asked with concern.

"Didn't get to sleep until late last night."

"What did you do last night?"

"I went over to Nick's trailer and time slipped away."

Monroe was silent then finally asked, "How late were you up?"

"Oh, I think I got home close to three," I said weakly. I was going to fall asleep in a moment. My couch was so comfortable.

"Three… in the morning?" he questioned with a sharp tone.

"Yeah. The time got away from us."

"So, I guess you stopping by tonight isn't happening, huh?"

"I'm about to fall asleep talking to you," I replied.

Monroe let out a sigh. "I'll let you sleep then. If you get up and wanna stop by, call me, okay?"

"Yeah. I can do that." My eyes were closed and I had the cell phone propped against my ear. "Happy spring," I added.

"Spring? Is it spring?"

"Yeah, it's the first day of spring," I drawled out. "Things are going to get better now."

"Umm, okay. If you say so," he chuckled. "Get some sleep and I'll see you later I hope."

I tried to motivate myself to get up, so I could go to bedroom, but the motivation had left me long ago.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Mark Knopfler singing in my ear knocked me off the couch. Cell phone. Nick. I scrambled to find the phone as I rubbed my back. I'd fallen asleep on the couch and the position I'd slept in had me all twisted up.

"Hey, Renée. I have more books to transcribe. Come on over."

"What time is it?"

"Nine-thirty." I'd slept the night away.

"Okay, but just an hour this time," I replied with a yawn.

One hour became two, then four. Nick and I were starting to scan pages in, and I'd found a way to link certain texts directly to the sketches. This was going to be better than Google once we were done.

Nick's cell rang as we were linking a Nuckelavee to an anatomy drawing.

"Slow down, Hank," Nick said into the phone. "When…? Tonight…? Was he there…? No, I'm leaving right now. I'll meet you at the Captain's condo."

Nick turned to me as he shoved his phone in his pocket. "I've got to leave. I've got a murder and a B and E to deal with."

"Did you say it was the police captain?"

"Yeah," Nick replied while putting on his jacket. "Now hurry up so I can go."

"Really?" I replied as my eyes widened. "Wow, who would be brave enough to do that?"

"That's what we're going to find out."

"Was he hurt?"

"Renée, I don't have time right now," Nick scowled.

I packed quickly and made my way to my car. Nick sped off as I closed my car door. Maybe I could still go see Monroe. I glanced at the clock in my car. Almost two. Crap, it was way too late. I stopped off for a veggie fajita wrap at Taco Bell. It was way too late to eat something like this, but I was starving. I'd skipped dinner. I yawned on the drive home as I tried to eat at the red lights. This was no way to live.

By the time I got home at quarter after two, I fell into bed without changing clothes.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

The next morning I was late to work. I was _never_ late to work. Even when Monroe was keeping me up until the wee morning hours, I was always on time. This was bad. Really bad.

The rest of my day was off kilter and I was able to scrape by in my two trainings without anyone noticing anything was wrong.

Come five o'clock I somehow got in my car and made it home. I passed out on the couch again.

When my cell rang I tried to use Jedi mind powers to propel the phone from the coffee table into my hand. It didn't work, and I finally got up to answer it before it stopped ringing.

"Hey, Honey," Monroe said.

"Hey," I replied wearily.

"Oh man, did you still not get enough sleep?"

"Well, I slept last night, but then I got back up."

"What did you do last night? Not Nick's again?"

"Yeah. He had some more books he wanted to show me and I told him just an hour, but then it went over that and…"

"Whoa, okay, okay. Slow down." Monroe said. I was beyond rambling. "If you were up you should've come over here instead."

"I know, but we're working on transcribing books into the computer. And…"

"No, I get it. Grimm work," he huffed out.

"Sorry, Monroe."

"Yeah, I can tell," was his sarcastic reply. "So what time did you crawl into bed this time?"

"Uhh… Earlier than the night before." It was true, just barely.

"Past midnight?"

"Umm, a little after two."

"Geez," he sighed. "So, yeah, I guess you're going to sleep again, right?" he said sounding pretty annoyed.

"You wanna come over here?" I muttered into the phone. It was propped against my head while I remained curled up on the couch.

"Dude, if you're gonna be asleep when I get over there, then that kinda defeats the purpose of seeing you."

"Forgive me?" I yawned.

"I miss you," he replied in a softer tone.

"Tomorrow I am all yours, I promise."

"I expect you to honor that promise, all right?"

"Yes… will do."

As I hung up the phone, I opened one eye to the news that was on TV. The newscaster was detailing the robbery of the police captain last night. They showed a bad surveillance camera video of the condo entrance as a figure all in black ran through the lobby. The newscaster returned to say that a doorman was killed in the process. The captain himself appeared on the screen.

"We have evidence that this incident is related to the theft from the Japanese exhibit from last week. If we have a serial thief in our city, then we will find the person or persons responsible and there will be justice. These crimes will not go unpunished."

I shook my head. When thieves were stealing from the ones that were supposed to protect the rest of us… Well, then no one was safe.

The newscaster returned and went over the rest of the news. A robbery in the Pearl district wounded a Chevron attendant, a man was arrested for attempted murder of his wife, and a local church received an anonymous donation of $100,000 to assist with their orphanage.

My eyes slowly closed as the sportscaster showed highlights of the Trailblazers loss to the Milwaukee Bucks.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

I jumped up at Dire Straits playing by my ear, but I stayed on the couch this time.

"So, I have a few films of Aunt Marie's I want you to see tonight."

"Nick, I can't tonight," I said while trying to keep the southern drawl to a bare minimum.

"Oh…" he sounded disappointed.

"I've got to get some sleep, I've been burning the candle at both ends lately and I've got to catch up."

"How about tomorrow night?" he asked.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow. So are you working on this serial thief thing?"

"Yeah," he replied slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just odd that this person has robbed two officials. Well, one was indirectly, but it's still odd."

"Renée, you don't need to worry about it."

"But don't you think…"

"Renée, don't worry about it."

"Okay, I understand. You can't discuss it. But if it's something Wesen then we can talk all night," I scowled. "I'm going back to sleep now and I'll talk to you later."

I pushed buttons on the phone until the call ended before Nick could respond. I dragged myself into the bedroom and actually changed clothes before going back to sleep.

* * *

A/N: So Monroe isn't too pleased about the Grimm work, huh?

The captain was robbed... Ruh-oh! I'm going off cannon a bit with this story arch, but it won't effect the original show plot, I assure you.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

After work the next day, I spent my time making up for abandoning Monroe. Nick called, but I ignored him. Part of me wanted to answer, since I really enjoyed working on the transcription of all those books, but if he was going to be standoffish every time I asked him a question outside the Wesen world, then it was best if I just kept ignoring him for a while. Maybe I was cutting off my own nose to spite my face, but that was fine, too.

Monroe was doing much better, and his leg had healed well, but the scar was a reminder of what might have happened if that stupid Blutbad had continued. I didn't need to be spending my time with Nick when I needed to cherish my time with Monroe. If I'd learned one thing this year, it was that time was precious, and we never knew how much of it we had.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

On Friday, instead of a full day at the office, I worked from home the later part of the afternoon, so I could be available for a delivery. There was a knock at my door, and I glanced at my cuckoo. Good, they were right on schedule.

I opened the door to the smiling face of the delivery man. "Davenport?" he asked.

"Yes." I nodded.

"I'm Stan from Exercise Equipment in Beaverton. I've got your Pilates reformers on my truck."

It was a little pricey, but if Monroe was going to stay at my house I didn't want to hinder his regimen. Besides, this gift was to make up for the last few days at Nick's. Hopefully he would appreciate the gesture.

The delivery guy was quick to setup both reformer machines in my spare room downstairs. I was going to turn this room into a study, but it was large enough to double as an exercise area. Having two machines meant I was setting myself up for early mornings, but I could be flexible and work out with Monroe. I wanted our relationship to work, and I was willing to adapt to his lifestyle to ensure it would.

"So, you need any instruction on these?" the delivery guy asked with a grin. "Our company trains us for demos if you need me to show you a few moves."

"Oh, no," I told the delivery guy while waving my hands out. "I have a working knowledge."

"Well, here's my card if you change your mind." He flashed me another grin. "I do private demos, too." Was flirtation another part of this company's amenities, too?

"Thank you for your help." I led Mr. Delivery Flirt back to my front door. I tipped him well. Hopefully he wouldn't think that meant I was interested.

Once he was gone, I went back to view my purchases. These were different from Monroe's, but they were similar enough. Oh, let's hope I'd picked out the kind he'd be able to use. Too bad I didn't have a bow. It needed a bow. Oh, perhaps I did!

I went upstairs and searched for my box of gift wrap. There ought to be one in here leftover from Christmas or a birthday. Sure enough, there was a large, red bow with tails in good condition inside the box. Red, the perfect color. I grinned to myself as I took it downstairs and placed it on one of the machines. I had to call him.

"Hey," said Monroe. "They have you taking a late lunch today?"

"No. I'm at home actually."

"Why are you at home at this time of day?" he asked suspiciously.

"Come over," I said while trying to contain my excitement.

"Everything okay?" The worry etched in his voice.

"Everything is fine." I was brimming with excitement now. "It's a good thing. Come over, you'll see."

"You wanna give me a hint?" His curiosity coated his words.

"No hints… Surprises!"

Monroe chuckled. "Okay, then. I'll be over in a few."

I literally danced around the living room as I tidied up before Monroe arrived.

My cell rang again, and I picked it up. "Surprises," I grinned into the phone.

"Renée?" asked a female voice.

I froze for a moment. "Oh, so sorry. Yes. Who's this?"

"It's Sandra… Sandra Bilka."

"Yes, hi! How are you?"

"Are you at home?"

"I am actually. Why do you ask?"

"I have your painting. I thought I'd just bring it over personally."

I sat down on the couch. "You don't have to do that, Sandra. I could just pick it up at the gallery."

Lydia had called last week to let me know Sandra's painting was ready to be picked up, but I was busy nursing Monroe back to health. She'd told me she'd hold on to it until I was available to get it. Honestly, with everything that had gone on recently, it was the last thing on my mind.

"No, it's fine," said Sandra. "My pleasure, really. I'm actually out close to your house. Lydia gave me your address."

"Well, come on by. If you're coming from Northwest 23rd Street, turn left at the Starbucks and I'm the yellow house on the left."

"Oh, yeah. I know where that is. I'll be there in a jiffy."

Sandra seemed as cheery as ever. After revealing myself, I was worried she and I might not have the same relationship as we had before. But I couldn't lose my boutique girl. Her dresses were amazing.

It wasn't too long after our phone call that there was a knock on my door. Sandra was on the other side, lugging the painting wrapped in brown paper. It seemed I was getting two deliveries today.

"Hey, that was fast," I said as I motioned her inside.

She hesitated at first, but then entered into the living room. "Wow, this place is swell," she commented as her eyes trailed around.

"Here let me sit that somewhere," I said, taking the painting. "You want something to drink?"

"Sure. Water would be nice."

"Have a seat," I motioned to the couch. "Let me grab a bottle from the fridge."

I went to the kitchen, taking two bottles of Dasani from my fridge door. I stood there for a moment, preparing my thoughts. Would Sandra bring up the Grimm thing? If so, how much was she going to ask, and how much was I willing to tell? We'd just have to play it by ear. When I returned to the living room, Sandra was huddled near the edge of the couch and looking around like she was in awe.

I handed her a bottle. "Thanks again for bringing this over. That was so sweet of you."

"Well, thanks for purchasing it." She opened her water and took a tentative sip. "You really like it?"

I sat down on the other side of the couch. "I do. I've been looking for a piece big enough to go over my fireplace, and I think this one is going to fit well."

"The colors are going to look fantastic with the colors you already have in here."

"That's what I thought, too. The red in the autumn leaves ought to pick up the red bricks in the fireplace."

"Oh, definitely!" Sandra had relaxed a bit, taking a larger sip of water and more room on the couch. "You have a good eye for color."

"I just know what's pleasing to the eye. At least my eyes." I chuckled.

"I love that one you have up." She pointed to my _Gray Guitar _painting. "The integration of Picasso with the modern dynamic is striking."

I nodded and reached for Sandra's painting where I'd propped it up by the arm of the couch. Gently, I removed the paper covering, getting a good view of the painting under my own lights. It was definitely a work of art.

"So, umm, I really don't want to be rude, but are you really a Grimm?"

"Yep," I casually replied, still eyeing the piece.

"I've never met one before, but the Eisbiber community has been talking incessantly about there being one in here in Portland. But they said it was a guy."

I turned to face her. "Oh? A guy?" While I was anticipating the Grimm talk, I hadn't planned on talking about Nick. Crap.

She tightened her grip on her water bottle. "Do you have a brother?"

"No, I'm an only child."

"Weird, 'cause from what I've heard, an Eisbiber wound up at this Grimm's house and barely got out alive." She gulped hard after saying that and had a quick woge.

I took a drink of my water. "An Eisbiber was in a Grimm's house?" I feigned surprise. It wasn't my place to say anything about Nick. He hadn't mentioned it, so I wasn't lying.

"Yeah, I first heard it from a lady who was in the shop in December. Said the guy had been telling anyone who would listen." I'd have to ask Nick about this Eisbiber thing. Now I was curious. "Makes me wonder how many Grimms are out there, since you're here, too."

"I don't know honestly." Maybe there was another one here. The thought hadn't occurred to me until Sandra mentioned it. Anything was possible.

"Before I heard about that one, I thought you guys were just myths. We all hear the stories about the Grimms that chop off our heads in the night, but to see one in real life, that's just something altogether different."

"Well, I can promise I'm not in the… head chopping business." I smiled to keep that statement as light as one could. It didn't help. It sounded awkward anyway.

"I figured if you're dating a Wesen then you couldn't be too much like the stories I've heard growing up. Besides, you seem way too nice to be a killer."

"Thanks," I replied. What was I supposed to say to something like that?

"So, your boyfriend knows about you then, right?"

I nodded. "Monroe is Wieder, and yeah, he knows everything."

She shook her head as she took it all in. "Wow, it's just so unorthodox that a Grimm and a Wesen… Wow."

"Well, I've had the ability to see all my life. Some of my closest friends are Wesen."

Her eyes lit up. "Really?"

I nodded. "But I don't share this with just everybody, especially since I moved here. So please promise you won't let anyone know, okay?"

Her back straightened. "Oh, I wouldn't dare."

"Thanks, Sandra. I'm glad I could be open with you on this."

Sandra and I worked to hang my new painting above my fireplace. Sure enough, it was the perfect fit and it looked even better here than in the gallery.

Sandra squealed as we both admired it. "The colors are just wonderful. Oh, Renée, it's perfect in here!"

"It really is," I agreed with a big smile. My cell rang and I turned toward my coffee table to answer it.

"Hey, Honey," said Monroe. "I'm almost to your house."

"Okay. I have company here, but still come on by."

"Natalie?" he asked.

"No. Sandra, the artist of the painting I bought at the art gala. She brought it over, and we just hung it up."

"Oh, the Nussesser?"

"Yeah."

"Well, you think it's okay if I come by? I mean, I can hold off until she's gone."

"No, it's fine. Come on over."

"Well, okay then. See you soon."

I laid the phone back down. "Sorry about that. It was the boyfriend calling. He's headed over here."

"The Blutbad?"

"Yeah, but you can call him Monroe." I smiled. Part of me wanted to go into my equality stand point, but it was too soon for things like that. I'd never understood why Wesen did that, but I suppose humans were no different. We had no problem saying, 'the black guy,' or 'the Asian.' Wesen just had better names.

"Right, sorry." She pursed her lips. "I should probably go. I kinda closed the shop so I could drop this by."

"Oh. I was hoping you could stay for a bit since you're here."

"Some other time, absolutely." She beamed at me. "I'm so happy you liked my art, I really am!"

I moved forward, and she flinched slightly as I hugged her. I walked her to my door.

She turned before leaving. "Thanks for trusting me."

"Thanks for trusting me, too."

Sandra went down the steps and toward her car as I closed the door. I went back to the fireplace and looked at my painting again. I missed Cherokee Park.

Five minutes later Monroe arrived. "So, she didn't want to stick around, huh?" he said as he walked inside. He sniffed the air. "Wow, she must've left in a hurry."

"You can tell that from her scent?"

"Umm, no. It just didn't take me that long to get here." Monroe chuckled. "My nose isn't _that_ good."

"Ah, that makes sense."

He walked over to my new piece. "So, this is where you decided to put it, huh? Kinda the focal point for the room now."

I rested my hand on his arm. "Yeah, I really like it."

Monroe shrugged. "I mean, there are worse paintings you could've picked out, I suppose. This one at least matches the room."

I shook my head at him. "It's a beautiful piece, and I'm really happy with my purchase."

"If you're happy, then I'm happy for you, man," he replied with a smirk. "So, what did you want to show me?"

"Oh!" With Sandra stopping by with the painting, I'd almost forgotten. "Now you'll have to close your eyes, because it's a surprise."

He chuckled, but did as I asked. I took his hand as we walked slowly down the hall.

"Is this some sort of trap?" Amusement encircled his voice.

"Aww, who told you?" I teased. I led him into the newly dubbed exercise room. "Okay, open your eyes."

Monroe slowly opened them and they widened at the sight. "Whoa!" he exclaimed and hurried himself over to the new machines. "These are so... awesome!" He was already moving parts around, making little noises as he went.

I loved those noises, loved...

He peeled off the bow as he looked my way. "A red bow?" he grinned.

"It's your favorite color, right?"

"You know it is." A flicker of red danced across his eyes. He went back to the machines. "Balanced Body is, like, top of the line reformers, man. These are much better than what I have at home."

"Now you'll have no excuse but to stick to your schedule while you're staying over here."

Monroe raced back toward me, picked me up, and spun me around the room. "So, how did I luck into someone so… amazing?" He kissed me before I had time to reply.

Once he let my lips go, I finally said "The universe likes us, I guess." I smiled at him as he set my feet back on the ground. "I'm pretty lucky, too," I added.

He grinned while glancing back at both machines. "So, you know, since there's kinda two..."

"Yeah, I'm going to try to do this with you." I grinned back up at him. "But don't hold me to it, because the crack of dawn and I aren't the best of friends."

"Hey, if you try it, you might just enjoy it, man."

"Lovely sentiment there, but I don't know if I can," I said. "But, I'm willing to try... for your sake," I added.

Monroe wanted to show me a few moves on the Pilates machines and some of the perks of this brand. He was so involved in talking nonstop about maneuvers and positions that he barely took in a breath.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

After Pilates 101 and a long intimate shower, we shared our Friday night being lazy homebodies. It was uneventful and wonderfully normal. With the conversation I'd had during my visit with Sandra earlier today, I needed normal.

"You and I are going out tomorrow," said Monroe as we cuddled on the couch.

"And what plans do you have for us tomorrow?"

Monroe glanced up at my fireplace. "It's time for some art in a better form," he replied with a smirk.

I looked over at him. "The art museum?"

Monroe nodded. "There's an exhibit there I've been itching to see, and I want to share it with you."

"Okay." I beamed as I leaned my head against him. "Sounds like a date." The normalcy was going to continue, and I adored every moment.

* * *

A/N: An Eisbiber who barely got alive of a Grimm's home? Gee, wonder who that might be? (;

I think I'm going to be sad when they actually have Squirrels and Rabbits on the show and they're gonna have completely different Wesen names. Ah well...

I'll have more chapters in a few days.  
Stay tuned for more...


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

It was too cold to wear a spring dress, but it didn't stop me. The white spaghetti strap dress splashed with orange flowers was adorable, and more than likely I'd freeze to death in it. But if I was going to die, I'd do it looking fantastic. It was spring, darn it, and I was going to enjoy my favorite season, even if the thermometer didn't want to cooperate.

I thumbed through the weather forecast on my phone as Monroe and I drove to the Portland Art Museum. Mostly cloudy and the high today was going to be fifty-nine degrees. I shook my head. The natives probably thought this was bikini weather. I looked up the forecast for Louisville. Sunny and seventy-five degrees. Now that was what spring was supposed to be like. Oh, May. In a little over six weeks from now I'd have the sunshine and the warmth on my skin again.

"Finally, some real art," Monroe commented as we pulled in front of the museum.

"You deserve it after going through the art gala for me," I replied as I stashed my phone away in my bag. "But I'm happy to see art in any form."

There were many parking spaces to choose from, and we found a spot close to the entrance. We walked into the barren lobby. It was unusually deserted in the museum today. The only person visible was the admission clerk behind the guest services counter.

"You know, the movie theaters are constantly packed, but here you get some real culture and no one's around to appreciate it," Monroe shook his head disappointedly as we walked toward the gallery.

"But it makes it more intimate for us if there's no one around." I stole a kiss emphasizing my point.

"Okay. Well, I suppose that's a plus." He pulled me close to him as we walked around the near empty corridors and took in the history of all these late, great artists.

"Here we go!" said Monroe as we rounded the corner to the next gallery room. "I wanted to show you these." Monroe pointed to three pieces side-by-side on the wall. "They're the Meisterstiche by Albrecht Dürer."

"Meisterstiche?" I couldn't figure out the translation of the German.

"Master engravings," replied Monroe with a grin. "Dürer was a Renaissance Artist, engraver, printmaker, mathematician, and theorist from Nuremberg, Germany. The man was, like, a genius. You know, his woodcuts revolutionized the art of engraving."

We walked over to one titled _Melencolia I._

"But this one... This one I never get tired of looking at."

I could understand why. It was a mixture of beauty, sadness, and symbolism. A brooding winged being sat in apparent dejection, head in hand, surrounded by unused objects of science, craft, and art. Her face was like a mask of darkness, but her bright eyes glared, as if she were staring down the cause of her misery. Everything else about her seemed lost and exhausted in her pose. Science and math were laced here and there.

I focused on the square of numbers in the corner behind her.

"Is that a magic square?" I asked Monroe.

"Good eye. Yeah, the numbers all add up to thirty-four." Monroe pointed to the corners as I mentally tallied the sum.

"Why thirty-four?"

Monroe shrugged. "Your guess is as good as any. Dürer was forty-three when he engraved this one, so some say it's the reverse of his age. There are whole books dedicated to understanding the meaning of this particular engraving."

I turned back to the piece. "The details are just so intricate."

"You can lose track of time in the details, man." I looked over as he grinned.

We moved from one gallery to the next, pausing here and there, talking nonstop about colors and lines, visionary landscapes, bold hues, textures, and brushstrokes. We discussed it all. Monroe was completely engaged as I held his hand. This was intellectual love.

After we'd finished with the first floor, we took the stairs to the second level.

In the main gallery was the exhibit of the Italian artist, Titian's _La Bella._

"Oh, let's start in here first," I said.

We walked up to the painting as another couple ooh'd and ahh'd over the work of art. Hanging before us in a gilded frame was a portrait of a woman in a blue dress and it was quite a masterpiece. Extra care had been made to dress up the wall. A royal purple backdrop was draped behind it, enlivening the colors and giving it a majestic touch. Even the lighting had been adjusted. The room was low-lit, except for the one showcasing the painting.

"This is the first time it's been in the U.S.," I overheard the woman comment to the man she was with. "I can't believe we got it first. That new curator is amazing. Maybe she'll bring more prizes like this to Portland."

I grinned slightly. Oh, Madame Dazzles was something, all right. But amazing? I'm sure she would wholeheartedly agree with this lady that she was.

Once the couple had moved off to the side, Monroe and I had a chance to admire it.

"Just look at that smooth transition in the lines, man. Now that's a beauty."

I nodded. "It doesn't even look like a painting. The exactness is like a photo."

"Back then these were the photos," Monroe chuckled. "Kodak's got nothing on talent like this."

He turned toward me. "There's one more thing I need to tell you, err, show you." He shook his head. "It's in one of the other galleries. This piece, it's just… well once you see it I think you'll understand."

"Sure, let's go."

"Lemme just stop in there a minute first." He pointed to the restrooms behind us. "I'll be right back, Hun."

"I'll be right here."

While Monroe was gone, I glanced back over to _La Bella_. This Renaissance painting was absolutely beautiful and it deserved a second look. I studied the detail of the brushstrokes on the woman's porcelain face. From the blush of her cheeks, to her eyes, which were bold and honest, yet demure as they looked off to the side, she was definitely a work of art. This lady was certainly well-to-do. The braids in her hair alone would've taken a servant hours to arrange. Her hair's gold highlights accented her blue and gold dress perfectly. Titian had left nothing out of place and I was in awe. I adored this piece and was drawn in, mesmerized by her beauty.

A woman's shriek to my right knocked me out of my trance. I turned to the other couple in the room and they gasped while pointing to someone dressed all in black from head to toe. The couple ran out leaving me alone with this mysterious person. My eyes followed the black-clad figure as they ran toward _La Bella_. The outfit clung tightly and it didn't take much to realize she was female. On her back held a small, wooden crossbow and a black satchel. The news reports! Was this the same thief? I jumped back quickly, but I remained fixed on her.

She leapt like a ninja over the gold, velvet ropes that were draped around the perimeter of the painting. Just as quickly as she had leapt, the Ninja removed the painting of _La Bella_, replacing it with a blue card she pulled from her satchel.

My woge of recklessness burst forward. I had to stop her! The Ninja turned in my direction as I moved forward. Piercing blue eyes stared at me through the opening of her black hood. Suddenly the visible part of her face sprang out dark fur surrounding her eyes. She retracted quickly and I remained still, not reacting to her woge. She was Wesen, no doubt.

One of art gallery guards ran up and the Ninja spun toward him.

"Don't move!" the guard yelled, reaching for the gun on his holster.

The Ninja ignored him and deftly grabbed the crossbow from her back. Before the guard could remove his gun, she shot him with one-handed precision. The arrow plunged into his chest and he immediately fell to the ground. Holy crap, she killed him!

My eyes snapped back to the Ninja. Setting the painting down for a split second, she reloaded the crossbow. The alarms in my head screamed at me to get the hell out of there. Sometimes my curiosity overshadowed my intelligence. My recklessness encouraged me to rush forward, but before I could move, the Ninja pointed the crossbow at me while holding the painting with her right hand. My heart caught in my throat! Why didn't I just leave when I had the chance?

There was a flash of recognition in those blue eyes and the Ninja flinched at me. Or maybe she recognized I knew what she was. I wasn't sure of anything at the moment. I held my breath, expecting to be as dead as the guard soon, so it wouldn't matter what the Ninja thought.

Before the crossbow was shot, the art gallery alarms went off, halting her aim. The Ninja put the crossbow away, leapt back over the ropes, and with _La Bella_ under her arm she was out the door in an instant.

I held my hand to my chest, catching my breath. The whole scene took all of a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity as that crossbow was aimed at my head. I was still frozen in place like a statue. A hand touched my back and I about jumped out of my skin.

"What's going on?" Monroe asked as I let out a yelp.

"Robbery," I breathed out, pointing at the vacant spot where _La Bella_ once hung. "And murder," I added looking once more at the dead guard. This hadn't been the first murder I'd witnessed, but it didn't make it any easier. My body was catching up to the reality of what just happened and I was shaking.

"Oh geez, I wasn't gone all that long," he exclaimed and I turned and hugged him tightly.

"The thief wasn't human," I whispered into Monroe's ear as I held him. "Can you use your nose?"

"Yeah, no problem," Monroe replied as he let me go. He inched closer to the velvet ropes, but stayed a good distance away from the dead guard. He took a sniff in and shook his head while walking back toward me.

"Waschbar, without a doubt," Monroe said in a hushed tone. "Female. She's wearing Chanel No. 5, which is a little too cliché for my taste."

"Waschbar?" I asked. "It was a raccoon?"

"Yep, that'd be a Waschbar, all right."

"Better call Nick," we both said, almost in unison.

Monroe pulled out his cell as more guards came into the gallery. One of the guards approached us.

"Are you folks all right?" he asked and we nodded. "We need to clear this room. Can you both follow me please?" We walked out as the guards put up velvet ropes in front of the room, similar to those that were around _La Bella_. The museum was full of clamor as the dozen or so patrons had gathered upstairs and were obstreperously shouting to the guards to find out what had happened. They flooded near the room while the guards were trying to keep them out. Monroe was still talking to Nick on the phone as we walked away from all the din.

"Is that really necessary, Nick?" Monroe asked into his cell. "Oh man… Well, I suppose we'll be here then." I gave him a puzzled look while he put his phone back in his pocket.

"Nick says if you saw the whole thing you'll need to come to the station more than likely." He sighed heavily. "He's on his way here now."

"Oh, boy." I sighed right along with him.

Monroe put a hand on my shoulder. "We gotta stay here until they arrive."

"Guess we better find a seat."

* * *

A/N: Okay, so I'm trying on my own 'Wesen of the Week' arch. Enjoy!

The word "obstreperously" was a joke from the episode 'The Good Shepherd.' It was a closed captioning word used as the parishioner sheep were loudly shouting in one scene. It was such an interesting word, that I vowed to use it my story. Kudos to Helena for pointing the word out! (There ya go! LOL!)

_La Bella_ is the painting we see in 'Love Sick,' just to refresh your memories. (There's a link of the painting on my profile, too) It's making an appearance a bit earlier than in the show. Or, since it was just stolen, perhaps I should say disappearance, huh?

Albrecht Dürer is a widely discussed artist. He was the answer to a bar trivia question a month ago, and I'd never heard of him until then. I looked him up, and he just seemed like a Monroe type artist, with the engraving and the German background. I have links on my profile for the Meisterstiche, if you wanna take a look. (:


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

We'd been sitting on a bench in the hall outside the gallery for at least four chapters into _The Thomas Crown Affair_. We were still too close to the incident in my opinion, but the guards weren't letting anyone downstairs until the police gave the okay. Police were moving past us to and fro, but the Kindle was keeping me occupied. The art theft wouldn't leave my brain, hence the book I was reading.

Monroe nudged me and I glanced up to see Nick walking toward us. As he walked he was conversing with another guy with a badge hanging around his neck. This guy had short black hair with a matching mustache and goatee. He was slightly taller than Nick and in his late thirties if I had to guess. He must have been a detective, too. Upon closer inspection, he was sporting earrings in both ears, which didn't seem very detectively to me. The gold hoops sparkled under the lighting against his dark skin. Both men continued to walk toward us. While Nick moved with caution, the other detective walked with purpose. There was something about him. He had confidence... swagger. Maybe it was just the earrings.

They both glanced in our direction briefly. Detective Swagger seemed to recognize Monroe. Neither of them said anything to us as they approached the crime scene. They stopped in front of the yellow police tape hanging across the gallery entrance to talk to a cop who had been moving around quite a bit since he'd arrived. The other detective had called him Sergeant Wu. The Sergeant was shorter than Nick, with jet black hair and a wide smile that crinkled up to his almond shaped eyes. The smile seemed in bad form given the situation.

"Looks like the Hunger Games have come to Portland again," Sergeant Jokes-a-Lot said. It hadn't been funny the first three times he'd said it to the other cops. Nick and Detective Swagger didn't laugh either.

"What, you mean it's another death by arrow?" Detective Swagger asked with one hand resting on his hip.

"Yeah, it went right through the guard's chest just like before," he replied. "Maybe he's playing Cupid instead?"

"Whatever he's playing, we gotta find this guy before he breaks anymore hearts."

The sergeant lifted the yellow tape and they all stepped inside.

I turned to Monroe and whispered, "Nick didn't even say anything to us."

"Yeah, he tries to keep us and him, umm, separate when he's working."

"Oh," I said flatly. "So, I guess we just wait here then?"

"Yeah, looks like it." Monroe let out a sigh. "So, what are you reading?" I showed him my Kindle. "Well, I guess that's an interesting choice, you know, considering," he chuckled. I leaned against Monroe's shoulder and continued with my book.

"Is that the clock guy again?" Detective Swagger faintly said from behind the wall of the gallery. "He's always popping up out of the woodwork, isn't he?" I closed my eyes and listened further.

"Uh, yeah. That's him," Nick replied awkwardly.

"Wow, that guy can't catch a break."

"Well, it was his girlfriend that actually witnessed it," Nick replied. "He wasn't around when the whole thing happened."

"That one that's sitting next to him out there? That's _his_ girlfriend?"

"Yeah. I, uh, overheard a couple of officers discussing witnesses when we came in."

"Huh. Well, how about that," Detective Swagger replied. "Maybe _I_ need to pick up clock making as a hobby."

"Why, you need to make up for some lost _time_, Hank?"

"Man, you're slipping, that one wasn't even funny. You been taking lessons from Wu?"

"I'm sure there are other ways to show a woman a _good time_," Nick continued with a chuckle.

I shook my head then turned to Monroe. If I could hear them, undoubtedly he could, too.

"How often do you frequent the police station?" I asked.

Monroe pressed his lips together. "Uhh… Recently or collectively?"

"I don't want to know, do I?" He shook his head 'no' as I asked. Ignorance was bliss. I was reminding myself of this more and more.

"You know, things happen," Monroe said, shifting in his seat.

"Yeah." I reached for his hand. "Things happen," I repeated as I looked out into the hallway of cops. Things were definitely happening today.

We sat and waited until Nick and Detective Swagger returned. They approached us and I stiffened in my seat.

"I'm Detective Griffin. This here is Detective Burkhardt." They were both looking directly at me. Monroe apparently already knew them. "We're gonna need you to come to the station so we can get a statement about what you witnessed today."

"Sure, of course," I replied quickly, nodding as I spoke.

Detective Swagger asked, "You weren't hurt at all, Miss...?"

"Davenport. Renée Davenport. No, I wasn't hurt. I'm still a bit shaken, but I'm fine."

"I realize you've been through a lot today. It shouldn't take too long, and then you'll be free to go home."

"We're on our way back to the station now," Nick said, "so if you wouldn't mind just heading that way."

Hank looked at Monroe and added with a smirk, "You still know how to get there, right?"

Monroe stammered, "Uh, yeah. I, umm, remember where it is."

Both detectives walked off and Monroe and I stood, which felt really good after sitting for so long.

"You know this really isn't how I planned this day going," Monroe said as we walked toward the stairs.

"Just another fun day in Portland," I sighed.

* * *

A/N: We got a little Hank and Wu action! The characters are expanding. (:

It's a short chapter, but I enjoyed the jokes. Hope you did, too.

On to the precinct!


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

We sat on a wooden bench in the precinct lobby. I was tired of sitting. Large murals of boats on a river hung on the walls of the tan hallway. Maybe it was the Willamette River? I tried to focus on one of the boats as I gripped my knee that was crossed over my leg. Monroe kept his hand on my back, stroking softly with his palm.

"How long must we wait?" I murmured.

"It's only been fifteen minutes," Monroe replied while glancing at his wide cuff, leather watch. "It'll be over soon enough."

Nick poked his head around the wall as he caught my eye.

"Renée, you wanna follow me?" I nodded and stood up while smoothing down my dress. I gave Monroe a longing look. It would be better if he could go with me.

"We're going to get your statement. It's a few basic questions, so it shouldn't take long," Nick explained as I followed him through the department. My heels click-clacked against the light and dark green tiled floor. The precinct was very green, except for the baby blue walls that reminded me of Monroe's kitchen. Many desks were situated out in the open with the familiar office sounds of phones and computers buzzing and humming.

We passed by Lydia Swift, who was arguing with one of the officers about the robbery. She was less dazzling than how I was used to seeing her. Instead of a gown, she was wearing a simple taupe dress suit and pearls. I really hated pearls, but on her they worked.

"It's on loan from the Galleria Palatina in Italy!" she yelled at the officer who was taking notes. "What the hell am I supposed to tell them? You need the entire force out there finding my damn painting!" Madame Dazzles roared loudly, catching everyone's attention, including mine and Nick's. She definitely wasn't sophisticated when she was angry.

"That's Lydia Swift, the new curator of the Portland Art Museum," I said to Nick as we moved past.

"How do you know that?" he asked.

"I've talked to her a couple of times at art galas," I replied as we turned another corner.

He held back a chuckle. "Well this isn't a great start for her, is it?"

I nodded. I almost felt bad for Madame Dazzles. This was going to leave a blemish on her local notoriety, as self-proclaimed as that was. Still, it was going to be difficult for her to get another great art collection to Portland after something like this, if they even kept her around as curator at all.

Nick motioned me into a room at the end of the corridor. I'd seen interrogation rooms like this on CSI Miami. It was even greener than the rest of the precinct. The decorator for the Portland PD must've been the former decorator for Kermit the Frog. There was a large two-way mirror on the far wall. At least that's how they were on those drama cop shows. The focal point in the center of the room was a green, metal desk and a few green chairs on either side. The walls were divided with deep wood slatted paneling on the bottom and more green painted on the top. Just standing in the room made me feel guilty, and I hadn't even done anything.

"The captain is gonna sit in with us, okay?" Nick asked, like I could refuse.

"Sure, of course." I nodded to be polite. This whole thing had my stomach doing somersaults. I could use a glass of water. I'd swallowed hard so many times my tongue was sticking to the roof of my mouth like peanut butter. I let the practiced calm wash over me. It was fighting to take hold, but it eventually gave in, and I tried to breathe.

Nick pointed to a chair to the left of the table. "Go ahead and have a seat. I'm sure he'll be here in a minute."

I scooted out the chair and tried to get comfortable. This spot put me in view of the two-way mirror. Smile, you're on candid camera.

Nick sat across from me, laying down a notepad that he'd been carrying with him. A low hanging fluorescent bulb hung above us casting its cold, harsh light down on our heads. Glancing up was unbearable. It added to the dismal ambiance this place already had going for it. The room was claustrophobic. I swear it was smaller than it had been when we first entered. I really wanted this over and done with so I could leave.

My hands rested on the table, which had a silver metal bar screwed into its top. Those must be for handcuffs. Yeah, I'd seen way too many cop shows.

"So why have you been avoiding my calls," asked Nick, startling me.

"I've been busy, Nick."

"You aren't mad that I wouldn't talk to you about the case, are you?"

"What, the case that I'm now a part of?" I held back rolling my eyes. "No, not in the least."

"There are going to be things I can't discuss. You have to understand that."

"I understand. And you need to understand I can't stay out until the wee hours of the morning every night."

"Look, I'm not expecting that." Nick crossed his arms. "But I am interested in converting the rest of those books to the database."

"You're smart. I'm sure you can manage."

The door to our right opened, halting our discussion. A rather tall, broad-shouldered man walked into the room. I recognized the captain from the news, but to see him in person he appeared much younger and much more handsome. No doubt he was striking, with a nose like a Roman soldier and a chiseled jaw line that most actors in Hollywood would pay big money to their plastic surgeons for. He was dressed in a sharp gray suit with an emerald square print tie that complemented the green in his hazel eyes. Not that he needed any help with all the green everywhere else. The captain's short, dark hair looked perfect against his olive complexion… his extremely _flawless_ complexion. The touch of gray at his temples seemed almost out of place. Surely this guy wasn't old enough to have gray growing anywhere. He flashed me a closed-lipped, debonair smile that reminded me of a young Cary Grant as he closed the door behind him.

Nick stood. "Captain, this is Renée Davenport. She's the main witness we have to the robbery and murder that occurred at the Portland Art Museum earlier today," Nick said to Captain Debonair, who nodded.

"Miss Davenport, I'm Captain Renard." He lifted a manicured hand like he was going to take mine, but then stuck it in his pocket instead. "I realize you've had a trying day, so we'll make this brief." I took in a breath and attempted to keep my nerves to a minimum as Captain Debonair sat down across from me and beside Nick, who had settled back down in his seat.

"We have a few standard questions," said Nick, "so just answer as best you can."

I sat up straight in my chair, awaiting the questions. I was used to Nick's interrogations, but this time I needed to be more serious and less sarcastic with my answers.

"Miss Davenport, what part of the museum were you in when the robbery occurred today?" Nick began as he clicked his pen. He poised it over his notepad in front of him ready for my response.

I wet my lips before I spoke. "I was in the gallery room on the second floor where they were displaying _La Bella_."

Nick jotted something down. "How close were you to the event that took place?"

"The event? You mean the theft and murder?" I asked just to clarify.

Nick gave me an 'of course that's what I mean' look and didn't respond.

"Four feet, perhaps six when it began. I backed up quickly when the thief jumped over the ropes." A flying leap was more like it, but I stuck with the word 'jumped.'

"Did you see anything out of the ordinary before it happened?"

"No, I was just admiring the artwork. A woman let out a shriek when the thief entered and that's when I first saw them. The woman and the man she was with both raced out of the room leaving me alone with the thief. Well, except for the guard, who came in once the painting was taken off the wall." The arrow going through the guard's chest was still etched in my mind.

"Did you see the thief's face?"

"It was covered except for her blue eyes."

"Her?" Nick was writing frantically now.

"Yeah, it was definitely a woman," I said matter-of-factly.

"Why do you think it was a woman?" Nick asked stopping his pen and tapping it against his notepad.

"Well... she was wearing a bra." I flushed slightly at having to describe this to two men. "The black outfit she wore fit tightly and the bra's outline was apparent." Nick nodded with a straight face, however, and scribbled down something quickly. The captain's face remained handsome and unmoving.

"Any identifiable marks on the thief?"

"She was pretty well covered all in black, but she was wearing Chanel No. 5," I said, not thinking. Nick's eyes widened and he gave me a pained stare, clenching his pen until his knuckles turned white.

"Were you that close to be sure?" Captain Debonair asked. His voice startled me and my eyes darted in his direction. He tilted his head as a thin smirk appeared on his face, awaiting my reply.

"I just remember smelling it as it happened." I fidgeted in my seat, but quickly regained my composure. "I'm sorry, this has all been a little much today." I cast my eyes down. "Anyone could've been wearing it, I suppose."

Captain Debonair laced his fingers in front of him as he leaned forward. One hand bore a gold band. Married perhaps? There was a silver ring on the other. Was that a signet ring? I tried to make out the symbol, but his hand moved off the table. I glanced back up. The captain was giving me a suspicious look. Good job at being subtle, Renée. He probably thought I was an oddball staring at his hands like that. I quickly focused my attention back to Nick and away from Captain Debonair's hazel green eyes.

"Did the thief say anything to you?" Nick continued with the questioning.

"No, she just pointed a crossbow at me before the alarm went off." I let out a breath, replaying that part in my mind. Did the alarm stop her or did something else stop her? I still wasn't sure.

"Anything you can tell us about the crossbow?"

"It was predominately wood. The handle was curved. Definitely old, perhaps medieval." Nick was glaring again. "But I'm not an expert to know for sure," I quickly added. "It was etched on the sides, but they weren't symbols, just decorative gold inlay would be my guess. It was easy to hold and shoot in one hand just like a gun."

"Sounds like you got a good look at the weapon," said Nick with a hint of 'shut the hell up.'

"I have a good memory. I didn't see it for very long, thank goodness, but I did pay attention to the details. It's a habit of mine. She was a skilled marksman and used that weapon like it was second nature. She aimed, shot, and reloaded without any forethought." I paused to take a breath. "But I'm sure you know all this. I watched the news reports and the surveillance camera footage. You saw what she could do with it." God, I was rambling. Nick was tisking at me with his eyes, which were getting stormier by the minute. I needed to shut up.

"We have two dead because of her, Miss Davenport," Nick replied, trying to keep the strain out of his voice. "We're aware of how easily she killed them."

I turned my attention back to Captain Debonair. "I realize you were victimized by her, too. This affects you personally and I'm sorry."

The captain seemed taken aback by my candor. "Yes, this case isn't random. When someone specifically steals from elected officials then it's a serious matter. I appreciate your kind words, Miss Davenport."

Nick cleared his throat. "Did you notice any other details?"

"She was left-handed."

"Any other details we might not already know?" Nick didn't hold back the strain in his voice this time.

I hesitated as I twisted my fingers with my hands. "That's all I remember."

"You said the other couple that was in the room ran out. Why didn't you, Miss Davenport?" Captain Debonair inquired. As I turned to face him there was a slight smile resting on his lips and he seemed to be hiding his amusement.

"It was like a train wreck; I just stood, frozen, watching her," I replied, which was partially true. I was fighting my reckless woge pretty hard not to get involved, but after the Daemonfeuer I was a little gun-shy, so I hesitated. The crossbow didn't help, either.

They asked me if I could remember anything else pertinent and I'd given them all I knew. Captain Debonair rose from his seat, his eyes still locked on me.

"If you remember anything else, please call us." He slid his hands into his pockets and smiled once more in my direction. His smile wasn't genuine, but yet it wasn't faked either. Honestly, I wasn't sure what to make of him.

No doubt I had a silly grin on my face. "Yes, I definitely will."

"Nice meeting you, Miss Davenport. Thank you for your time."

I caught hold of his eyes again, gazing at me with curiosity. Goodness, he really was handsome. If Natalie had seen him she would've drooled so much she might have drowned.

"I'm just going to finish up with her, captain," Nick said and he responded with a quick nod.

Nick and I stayed in the room as Captain Debonair closed the door behind him. I shook off my grin as my eyes met Nick's. They were glaring at me. His usual blue eyes had turned to gray.

"What the hell was all that about perfume?" Nick hissed across the table as his teeth clenched on the words.

"I don't know why I said that. Monroe said he smelled Chanel No. 5 mixed with Waschbar when he checked it out. I was nervous. I didn't think before it had left my mouth."

"Well, unless we're trying to figure out where she shops, it was unnecessary," he said, disapprovingly.

"I'm sorry, all right? I was a little traumatized today after someone tried to reenact William Tell at my head."

Nick softened. "Sorry, Renée. It's just that I try to keep things sounding normal in here. I've got a partner and a captain that would be a bit skeptical if they found out their art thief is a raccoon that wears designer perfume."

"Now for the record I said nothing about Wesen while he was in here," I reminded him.

He scoffed back, "Surprisingly you didn't."

"Okay, let's pretend that I've been seeing this all my life. Oh wait, that's not pretend. I_ have_ been seeing this all my life." I scowled at him and scooted my chair back. "Perhaps we shouldn't be having this conversation here."

"Yeah, I need to get your statement typed out anyways. Come over to the trailer tonight and we'll talk more. Can you find your way back to the lobby from here?"

"I think I'm capable of that," I said flatly as I got up to leave. Did he think I'd mess that up, too?

"Renée?" Nick said before I opened the door. I turned to face him. "I'm really glad you're okay. I mean that."

"So am I," I replied, turning toward the door and leaving.

I walked back slowly, people watching. Madame Dazzles had stopped yelling and the officer had her fill out some paperwork. She noticed me as I walked by and gave a faux smile which she really had to force. I nodded at her and tried to smile back. Detective Swagger gave me a wave as I went past his desk. I flashed him a smile.

As I walked down the hall I passed by the captain's office. Captain Debonair was on his cell phone pacing by his desk. The door was ajar and I had to fight with myself to keep facing forward. Was he speaking French? I caught the words, 'Il a été volé. La peinture, aussi,' which translated to, 'It was stolen. The painting, too.' I continued walking. It was best not to hover and eavesdrop.

"Well, umm, how did it go?" Monroe asked, standing up quickly as I turned the corner.

"Fine, except for giving too much info," I said in a huff as we both walked down the hallway.

"Too much info?" Monroe asked sounding confused as we walked down the stairs of the precinct building.

I waited to reply until we were outside. "Yeah, I got nervous and mentioned the Chanel No. 5. Apparently Nick thought that was a little over the top," I replied, shaking my head as I kept walking.

"Yeah, Hun. Umm, you probably shouldn't have mentioned that," he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "That's more for the Grimm work, not the police."

"The captain was pretty amused by my perception to detail," I replied with a shrug. "Nick looked like he was going to throttle me from across the table."

"Eh, Nick will get over it. He's just very concerned about his work and his Grimm work, you know, merging together."

"It seems like it's constantly merging," I replied.

Merging or just overlapping. Either way it was becoming apparent that the Wesen world and the real world were going to be a constant part of Nick Burkhardt's life as a cop. Seemingly, they were becoming part of mine, too. And not in the way I was used to.

"Let's just head back to my place. I have some things that'll take your mind off all this." He gave me a smile. I was sure he did.

"I really don't like police stations," I sighed as we got into Monroe's VW.

"Not my favorite place either, lemme tell ya," he replied with a heavy sigh.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

My mind went to those blue eyes of the Waschbar on the way back to Monroe's house. Did she know me or had I reacted at the woge? I wasn't sure either way. I closed my eyes and leaned back into the car seat. Michael Jackson's 'Smooth Criminal' came to mind as I hummed softly. I kept picturing that crossbow and how close I came to being another dead body on the floor. Perhaps Chloe was right and my luck would eventually run out.

"You doing okay over there?" Monroe asked.

I kept my eyes closed. "I haven't decided yet."

"We'll figure out who's behind this," Monroe assured me. "I mean, Nick will. He's good at these things. Well, with my help he's good at these things." Monroe laughed. I wasn't in a laughing mood.

A Waschbar. I'd seen a Waschbar recently, but where? I searched my mental filing cabinets, riffling through Wesen drawers. At work? No. At the grocery? No. At the… art gala! Madame Dazzles' bookend!

My eyes opened. "There was a Waschbar at the art gala last week. Maybe it was her."

"Now don't go blaming the first Waschbar you remember seeing."

"But those blue eyes. She had blue eyes."

"Well, maybe your friend Natalie could help you."

"Natalie? How?"

"Well, that's what she is. I mean, assuming I didn't actually smell a raccoon outside that night at your house."

"A Waschbar?"

"Yeah. I mean, I'm usually right about these things. Even in the rain the nose knows."

So, I knew two Waschbars. Well, crap.

* * *

A/N: Fans can rejoice. Captain Renard has made his way into the story! (:

Renée got a bit nervous her first time in the precinct, huh?

What? Natalie a Waschbar? Roh-oh!


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

The drive back seemed to lake longer than normal. I tried to distract myself and watch the cars pass by.

When we finally made it back to Monroe's, I breathed out a sigh of relief. The Portland Art Museum really wasn't the best date I'd had in a while. I really hated that all this had to happen while Monroe was trying really hard to show me a good time. What was he going to show me… or tell me? Dammit. Perhaps he was going to say it today. It seemed like I was cursed, so I blamed myself. No, I took that back. I blamed that darn Waschbar.

Once we were out of the VW, I went into Monroe's house, thoroughly disheartened about the day. As I took a seat on the couch I turned to Monroe, who sat close by, watching me.

"So, ya gonna be okay?" Monroe asked.

"Yeah, I'm just tense."

"Would you like a glass of wine? It might relax you."

I nodded appreciatively. It was barely past five, so it was acceptable.

Monroe returned with a bottle of Malbec and two glasses.

"Nick wants me to stop by the trailer tonight," I said.

"Again? You've been over there quite a lot lately," he lightly grumbled as he poured the wine into my glass.

"Yeah, I suppose I have," I admitted, "but this is about what happened today."

"But all the other times had nothing to do with today."

"The other times have been sharing research. Although, Nick just wants to talk more than anything. I have to admit it's nice to have someone to talk with, too."

"Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?" Monroe retorted.

"Not at all! I am grateful to have you. It's just different with…"

"With a human you mean." He rolled his eyes slightly.

"No, that's not what I mean. Finding out that I'm a Grimm and Nick still learning what a Grimm is… Well, it's good for both of us to have the other to talk to," I reasoned.

"I was kinda hoping to have you to myself tonight. We didn't get to finish our date, you know, with all the theft and death and all."

"I'm sure I can go over there for an hour and then come back."

Monroe shook his head. "It's never just an hour when you're over there."

"Time flies when you're talking Wesen," I replied and then took a large sip of wine. "I can manage my time," I added.

"What time are you going over there?" he asked.

"No clue. We didn't really schedule it. He just asked me to stop by tonight. I'm sure he'll call."

Monroe let out a short laugh. "I'm sure he will."

I finished my glass of wine quickly and Monroe refilled it without hesitation. It wasn't long before the bottle was gone and by the end of the second bottle my cheeks were rosy and warm.

"I have another bottle if you want?" he offered with a smile, pouring the remains of the second bottle into my empty glass.

"Why, Mr. Monroe, if I didn't know any better I'd think you were trying to get me drunk."

"Do I really have to try?" he asked, but it was more of a rhetorical question than anything.

Monroe went back into the kitchen and returned, producing another bottle of wine. He seemed perfectly fine, of course, even though he'd been drinking as much as I had. But if a whole bottle of whiskey didn't faze him, then a few bottles of wine were probably like drinking water. That Blutbad could hold his liquor, no doubt.

"You really don't want me going out tonight, huh?" I grinned as I sat up quickly. The effects of the wine spun my head like a merry-go-round. I leaned back again.

"If you can't drive then you'll just have to stay here," he said while trying to hide his smile. "I want you to be safe."

"But I do need to talk to Nick tonight."

"You can talk over the phone or something if you have to."

"Now to be fair… you wanted me and Nick to be all buddy, buddy. You can't fault me for doing what you asked, right?"

"I wanted him to know, yes, but I also don't like sharing," he replied with a devilish grin. He refilled my wine glass.

"I assure you he's not getting anything like what you get," I replied. Oh, the alcohol was working its voodoo on my replies. I must watch the words I was saying.

"And what is it that I'm going to get tonight?" he asked with eyes like fire.

"Another bottle of wine and you'll have a knocked out Grimm on your couch," I grinned.

"What about a glass or two more?"

I took another generous sip. "We'll see what happens."

"I'm willing to find out," Monroe replied, topping off my glass.

"So, since I'm kinda trapped here in this intoxicated state, what else did you have in mind tonight?" I asked while my eyes submissively looked up into his.

"Oh, I'm sure we can think of something." That devilish grin reemerged. Oh, I'm sure he could.

Monroe leaned over, taking the wine glass from my hand and setting it down on the coffee table. He took my hand, lifting me up slightly from the couch, my head still spinning, and kissed me hard on the lips. I let out a slight moan under his mouth. He let go after a moment and looked into my eyes.

"Your lips are more intoxicating than even the finest wine," he murmured while leaning me back into his couch. I wasn't going anywhere tonight. I didn't want to.

"You, Sir, are a poet," I sighed out as my head dipped back.

"Then you're my muse," he replied. Oh sly, sexy, Scorpio wolf. He kissed me again. Heavenly, delicious kisses trailed down to my neck.

"God, when you kiss me it's like…" I stopped to give myself time to process the words without just saying whatever was on my mind first.

"No, don't stop. You're interesting to listen to when you're drunk," he coaxed as he continued to kiss my neck.

"No, I'm incredibly silly when I'm drunk. Nothing good comes out of silly words," I replied with a slight slur to my voice.

Monroe stopped to look at me. "Oh, I beg to differ. I think your walls come down and you say what you really mean. So what do you really want to say, Renée?" Holy crap, he was good.

"I wanna say… that you take seduction to a whole new level, Mr. Scorpio," I softly laughed. He kissed me again and I drew in my breath to keep afloat.

Monroe stopped and I gasped in another breath. "What else?" he asked.

"You're so…" My cell started playing Dire Straits' 'Private Investigation,' halting my sentence. "Nick," I said as Monroe got up to pass the phone my way. He shook his head.

"Interesting song choice," Monroe commented while I searched for the talk button.

"Hey, Nick," I said into the phone. "What's shaking?"

"Whoa, are you all right?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm hunky-dory. How are you?"

Nick sighed into the phone. "You're drunk."

"A clever deduction, Mr. Detective."

"Can I talk to Monroe a second?" The annoyance in his voice was obvious.

I held the phone out Monroe's way with a sigh. "He wants to talk to you."

Monroe took it and I listened to his side of the conversation.

"Yeah, well, she needed it tonight, man... She can come over tomorrow or something… You won't miss her one night… No, I know it's not like that… Jealous? Oh, come on, dude…"

Monroe and Nick talked about Waschbars as I drifted off.

"Hey, don't fall asleep yet," Monroe said nudging me awake.

My lashes fluttered and I was met with his deep brown ones staring down at me. Foreigner's 'Double Vision' came to thought as I looked into Monroe's eyes.

"_My double vision always seems to get the best of me…"_

I grinned at him. "Sorry… Just so… cozy, warm, and drunk."

"Which is even more reason for you to stay awake with me," he replied and that devilish grin made its way to his lips.

"So, did Nick get the info he needed on Waschbars?" I asked.

"Yeah, but if he'd take the time to just, you know, read the books, he wouldn't need to ask as many questions. I'm sure it's so much easier to ask the Blutbad, 'cause I just have all the answers," he said in a mocking tone.

"But you do have all the answers," I insisted. "That brain is just an encyclopedia of lovely, wonderful things," I ran my hand through his wild, curly hair, scratching lightly across his temple. That sexy brain of his made me smile.

"Ah, I know enough to get me in trouble, sometimes," he chuckled. "But I'm glad it makes you smile." Oh, he'd heard that last part. Crap.

"Nonsense, it's just bulging with ideas and facts," I said.

"I can think of other bulging things that you enjoy, too," he replied and his eyes ignited with red.

"Oh, do tell," I edged forward sliding my hands down his chest.

"Getting closer," he teased as my fingers moved further down.

"How about there?" I asked, looking up into those smoldering eyes of his.

"Yeah, you've found the jackpot," he grinned. He went back to my lips as I stayed near the pot of gold.

Once he finally let go I said, "God, Monroe, this wine is hitting me hard." I tried to still sound sexy, but the alcohol was keeping that sexiness far away from me.

"I don't care," he murmured while taking off my dress and kissing down my neck. Oh, what amazing lips my Monroe had.

"Your Monroe?" he stopped and asked with a grin. Oh, talking outside my head was just happening more often than not. "So I'm yours, huh?"

I didn't want to answer that. Okay, yes I did. But if I did…

"Well, I already told you I was yours," I replied in my drunken stupor. I thought back to our night in the woods. I meant every word that night. "So if I'm yours… then that means you're mine," I determined in my drunkenness. It sounded logical enough.

"Well, you definitely _are_ mine," he agreed with a sly grin.

I sang Crosby Stills & Nash.

"_I am yours, you are mine, you are what you are.  
And you make it hard…"_

I laughed at the how those words fit our situation. It was so hard…

"And that means…?"

"That's difficult to define."

"It's not difficult… Just say what you're thinking. It's so much easier, don't you agree?" Oh, he kept saying just the right words.

"We belong to one another," I resolved.

"So, that means…?" He paused, waiting for me to finish.

I flashed him a drunken grin. "You tell me, Mr. Sexy Brain."

I'd just turn the tables in his direction. Maybe he'd say those three words first, and then I'd reply. If he said it I would definitely reply. Was I talking aloud? I didn't hear the words come out, but I didn't care if he heard me. I was drunk. So drunk.

Monroe watched my face, trying to see into my brain. He didn't respond. Perhaps I was just talking in my head. Maybe that was for the best after all.

"Just say what you're thinking, Monroe," I continued, mocking him.

Instead of words, Monroe kissed me again. The kiss was more passionate this time. God, I loved him and if I didn't watch I would tell him everything… Absolutely everything. But thank goodness his mouth was keeping mine shut.

He pulled back and just looked at me, but I wanted more. Darn alcohol.

"God you make me wanna…" Monroe began. Back to the lips and back to no words. "Aw man…" Monroe jerked up and flared his nostrils. "Put your clothes on."

"Huh? What is it?"

"Nick…" he practically growled.

I moved fast to find my dress before Monroe opened his front door.

"Dude, I told you she can come by tomorrow and you guys can talk Waschbars all you want."

I tilted my head just in time to watch Nick walk through the door with a folder in his hand.

"Monroe, this case is priority right now, and I need her to fill in some blanks." He pointed in my direction as he spoke.

"What did you do? Fly over here? We just got off the phone ten minutes ago."

"I was at the trailer. It doesn't take that long to get here, Monroe."

I smoothed down my hair and rubbed my head. God, I was useless right now. What did Nick expect from me all inebriated like this?

Nick moved to the couch and sat beside me. He opened the folder and pulled out his pen. This wasn't an interrogation room, but I was feeling guilty all over again.

"Okay, so this Waschbar… What could you see?"

"She had dark fur that came out as she had a woge. Nick, she either knew what I was, or who I was. But something stopped her from killing me."

"Killing you?" Monroe had moved to the leather swivel chair. "What do you mean by that?"

Nick looked to Monroe then back to me. "What, you didn't tell him about the crossbow?"

I shook my head. "No. But thanks for doing that for me, Nick."

"Renée," Monroe barked, moving to the couch and spinning me around. The spinning didn't stop. "What the hell happened while I was gone?"

I told him about the Ninja aiming the crossbow at my head after killing the guard and being saved by the bell of the alarm.

"But she didn't shoot… It was like… something else stopped her."

Monroe had his hand in his hair. "Man… Renée." Monroe closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. I reached for his hand.

"I'm sorry. This was why I didn't mention it, Honey."

Nick tapped my shoulder and I slowly turned back. "Okay, so does she know who you are or what you are? Which one do you think it was?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't associated with many flying ninjas who shoot crossbows and steal art, so maybe I flinched at the woge… again." God, I had to stop doing that. It was so unlike me. "But I met a Waschbar last week at an art gala. But it was a brief encounter, so I doubt she even remembered me. And it's possible I have a friend that might be a Waschbar."

"You mean you don't know?"

"She's never had a woge, but Monroe thinks he smelled Waschbar." Oh, the drunkenness made sentences difficult. "I mean, he smelled a Waschbar when she was over, right Monroe?" I rolled my head back toward him.

"Yeah, about your friend…" Monroe said as his eyes widened. "That combination of Waschbar and Chanel No. 5… Well, I kinda smelled that combo before… at your house… that night."

I sobered up at bit as I sat up straight. "Monroe! Why didn't you tell me that before?" Oh, this was worse than I imagined.

"Sorry, I really didn't think you'd want to know it could be your friend Natalie." He looked back to Nick. "But, I mean, just because Renée knows two Waschbars doesn't mean any of them did it. There's dozens of Waschbars in Portland and, you know, maybe they just like Chanel No. 5."

I rolled my head back to Nick, who was jotting things down on his notepad.

"But you said one of them was at an art gala a week before another piece of art was stolen," said Nick. "That's a little too coincidental not to overlook."

"My friend Natalie was at the art gala, too," I said softly, reaching for a pillow to hold.

"So _two_ Waschbars were at this art gala?

"Well, if Natalie is a Waschbar."

"I think I know a Waschbar when I smell one," scoffed Monroe.

My head rolled back to Monroe again. Oh, I was spinning from all this head rolling. "So, at yoga you smelled the Fuchsbau pretty quickly. Did you smell Waschbar then?"

"Okay, now the Fuchsbau was different. I'd smelled that scent before… on you, if you recall."

I rolled my eyes slightly. "So how does it work, just one scent at a time?"

"We'll update the 'Bluerod' notebook later, okay?" There was a slight glint in his eyes and I buttoned my lip.

"What are you guys talking about?" asked Nick and I moved my head back once more.

"Nothing, sorry."

"Okay. Well, can I get the names of the Waschbars?"

"Johnna Smallwood is for sure a Waschbar, but Natalie White is the one we're unsure about." Nick was writing the names down as I spoke. He looked up at Monroe and squinted his eyes at him. I turned back and caught Monroe pointing at his nose. He jerked his hand down once he saw me.

"Sorry," he sheepishly said.

I focused back on Nick and gave him Natalie's phone number. "You may want to check with Lydia Swift to get in contact with Johnna Smallwood. They're associates." Nick jotted down the rest of the information. "What are you going to do to validate interrogating them?"

Nick looked up. "I'm not going to _interrogate _anyone."

"Question them, sorry. You know what I mean."

"I'll take care of it." Oh, I knew what 'take care of it' meant. Crap. I really didn't want my friend involved in this. I really should've kept my mouth shut.

"What was on that card the thief left?" I asked instead.

Nick moved to a few pages from his folder. "She leaves these blue cards at each of the crime scenes. They're usually quotes from books or people. Here's the first one." He passed a page to me. Wow, he was actually sharing info on the case. I refrained from looking impressed. I read over the words while Monroe read over my shoulder.

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

**"Riches do not exhilarate us so much with their  
possession as they torment us with their loss."  
– Epicurus**

**"You only lose what you cling to."  
– Buddha**

**Beware, for law enforcement is filled  
with more thieves than guards!**

******0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

I glanced up at Nick. "So, the first theft… was that the Japanese exhibit?"

"Yeah, it was a collection of art and weapons from Japan."

"The Buddha quote… It's just…" I closed my eyes. God, the alcohol was affecting my thought process.

"Buddhism has a major influence on Japan's culture," Monroe said as I tried to think.

"But what does Epicurus have to do with Japan?" Nick asked.

"Epicureanism, Buddhism… both those philosophies cater to living a modest life," Monroe explained. "Great excess leads to great dissatisfaction. They have a similar hedonistic approach in finding balance without going over the limits of pleasure. Which isn't a bad way to live, except that I kinda enjoy my stuff."

"The third quote I'm not placing," I said as I opened my eyes.

"Well, we researched the third quote and haven't found anything. She also didn't identify who said it like the other two."

"No quotation marks either," I pointed to the page. "So maybe they're her own words?"

"So, she thinks someone in law enforcement is a thief, too?" Monroe asked.

Nick shook his head. "I guess so."

"What did the one say that was left after the captain was robbed?"

Nick gave the next page to me.

******0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

**"A rich man is either a scoundrel  
or the heir of a scoundrel."  
– Proverbs**

**Tear away the golden bricks from which  
their castles are built, and the mighty shall fall!**

******0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

"That last quote is hers again…" I said, noting the lack of quotation marks or name. "But only one other quote this time, not two."

"Is she saying the captain is a scoundrel?" Monroe asked.

Nick shrugged. "The quotes don't make any sense."

"Heirs and castles…" I said. "Are we talking Kings?" I closed my eyes again briefly as I went through my mental filing cabinets that were currently saturated in wine. "Buddha referred to the positions of kings and rulers as that of dust particles and he compared their treasures of precious metals and stones as bricks and pebbles."

"Well, golden bricks are precious metals," Monroe commented.

"How do you know that?" Nick asked me.

"Philosophy and Religious Studies in college," I replied. "What was stolen from the captain?" I asked, turning the conversation back to the case.

Nick hesitated a moment, then finally replied, "It was another piece of art. Apparently the captain owned a Rottmayr painting. He said it was part of his inheritance, but that's all he really mentioned about its history.

"Rottmayr. Is that German?" I asked. "It sounds familiar."

"Are we talking Johann Michel Rottmayr?" asked Monroe.

Nick glanced back at his notes. "Yeah. Why? Do you know the artist?"

"Yeah," Monroe replied. He's not German. He's Austrian. Salzburg if I'm remembering correctly."

"Is the captain of Austrian descent?" I asked. "He was speaking French on the phone."

Nick lifted his eyebrows. "When did you hear him on the phone?"

"When I passed by his office after I left the precinct today," I replied. "He was telling someone in French that _La Bella_ was stolen today. I didn't stop to listen to the rest."

Nick shook his head. "Well, I've known the captain for years, but we aren't close enough to swap family trees. He could be Austrian or French. Maybe both. Why does that matter anyway?"

"Just trying to get the whole picture," I replied. "What did the card say that was left today?"

Nick handed me the last page. "The card today just had a biblical quote, and something she wrote."

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

"**But man, despite his riches, does not endure;  
he is like the beasts that perish."  
– Psalms 49:12**

**The scales have been tipped far too long!**

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

"Beasts that perish…" I said aloud. "Is she referring to Wesen?" I pulled out my phone and Google'd the Forty-ninth Psalm. "The rest reads about the same; that we all die no matter if we're rich or poor."

"So, it's an equality thing?" Monroe looked at us. "I'm just trying to think outside the box here."

"I was getting that, too," I replied. "But tipping the scales. Tipping what? Power? Wealth?"

"Maybe all of the above," replied Monroe, scratching his chin.

I held my head. "I'm too drunk to think. But there's a puzzle here, for sure." I looked back to Nick. "I'm sorry I don't have any more… But these clues… Anyone who takes the time to leave quotes behind wants you to discover something."

Nick nodded slowly. "And we'll discover what that is."

"I don't get why she was stealing art in the daytime," said Monroe. "Don't these museum thieves ostensibly try to steal this kinda stuff at night? You know, cutting holes through windows and trying not to leave witnesses?"

"She stole the Japanese exhibit in broad daylight, too," Nick replied.

"But she robbed the captain at night," I recalled, since I was at the trailer the night Nick got the call.

"I don't know. This isn't a typical thief. We haven't seen anything like it."

Nick rose from his seat, seeming deflated. I wanted to have more answers to give him, but whoever this Ninja was, she was good.

"I'm going to head out. If you think of anything else…" Nick held up his cell phone to complete his sentence.

I leaned back against Monroe. "Goodnight, Nick."

"I'll just see myself out," he chuckled, sporting that toothy grin.

"You're good at seeing yourself in," Monroe muttered almost inaudibly.

Once the door was closed, Monroe looked down at me. "She aimed a crossbow at you, and you didn't think I might want to know about that?"

"It all happened so quickly."

"Renée, haven't we talked about this before? We gotta tell each other things."

"But you worry so much as it is…" I whined, which I hadn't meant to do.

"Is there anything else you need to tell me?"

"No. You already know all about the other things."

Monroe knew, but I still had Chloe to tell and a round of yelling to endure. Well, I hadn't mentioned the Reapers or the Daemonfeuer yet, so perhaps I ought to just save it up until May. Hopefully this was all I'd need to talk to her about.

"When were you going to mention that Natalie might be the thief?" I countered.

Monroe sighed. "I just didn't, umm… I mean, you really seem to like her and I know she's becoming your new friend here."

"Yeah, but if she's robbing people then that kind of ruins the friendship."

"Well, it may not be her. I mean…" he trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

"There's got to be a way to know for sure."

"Nick can handle it," he replied. "That's his job, not yours."

I shook my head. "I really hope it's not her."

Monroe put his arm around me. "Try not to worry about it tonight, okay?"

I nodded as I leaned my head against his shoulder.

"So," said Monroe," what's my ringtone?"

I looked up at him. "Umm, you don't have one," I said as he frowned. "…yet. You don't have one yet."

"Oh. Well, what song would represent me?"

"I'll know eventually," I replied.

"Okay," he replied. "Or is that a song?"

I laughed. "No. That's not a song."

He ran his fingers through my hair. "Well there has to be one song that fits me now."

"'Time After Time,'" I replied with a slight grin, although, I wanted to say, 'Lil' Red Riding Hood.'

* * *

A/N: Monroe is keeping Renée indoors instead of at the trailer. Jealous, or just worried? You be the judge. The crazy 'L' word still hasn't been said yet. Sorry guys. It's not going to happen this chapter.

So we've got a thief who likes to leave cryptic quotes. Sounds like a Scooby Gang mystery to me.

There aren't many Austrian painters. I was rather surprised by this. But check out Rottmayr, I liked some of his work. (Not on the profile this time, but he is on Google.)


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

The wine had long worn off and I was watching the news as Monroe was busy in the kitchen. Coverage of the art theft was the top story tonight. Captain Debonair was on the screen during a press conference. He made another statement that justice would be served.

"Every effort is being made to find and apprehend those responsible for these series of crimes," he said adamantly. "Anyone with information is asked to call the Portland Police Bureau immediately."

The newscaster reappeared. "The Portland Museum is offering a reward for information leading to the arrest and prosecution of the individual or individuals involved in today's robbery." He went on to mention that _La Bella_ was on loan from a gallery in Florence, Italy and the Portland Museum's main priority was for its safe return.

A clip of the surveillance camera footage from today was played again. I groaned loudly. It was the Ninja pointing her crossbow at me. Fortunately I was blurred out. The video didn't show much detail at all. No wonder they hadn't known she was female. The image was so dark no one would be able to tell had they not been there to witness it.

Monroe poked his head into the living room.

"What's going on?" he asked. "I heard you groaning."

"Just the news coverage from the robbery today. They showed video of the Waschbar preparing to kill me."

Monroe shook his head slowly. "Oh man. Couldn't they have picked the part where she was stealing the art instead?"

I slumped back into the couch. "You'd think that would be more appropriate."

"If you need me I'll be right in the kitchen, okay?" I nodded and Monroe disappeared back to his pots and pans.

The newscaster finished out the rest of the Portland news. There had been three cars in an accident on the Freemont Bridge causing major delays, an anonymous donation to a local food bank was a 'blessing from God,' and more chances for heavy rain early next week.

I turned the TV off and crossed my arms. There had to be a way to figure out if it was really Natalie or Johnna the Waschbar. I closed my eyes and replayed the event. I recited the quotes from the blue cards in my mind. I replayed the footage from the surveillance from the news report from the captain's condo. The news… Something was similar. I popped my eyes open.

"I need to see Nick!" I told Monroe.

"Huh?" Monroe replied as he poked his head back into the living room again. "Can't it wait until after dinner?"

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

"Okay, slow down," Nick said. "What do you mean donations?"

I'd been talking nonstop as my brain hurled out the puzzle pieces I'd been joining together during the drive to the trailer. I'd already explained it to Monroe and even he agreed I was on to something.

I drew in a breath while curling my legs under me on the trailer bed. "The same day of each robbery there was news of a donation somewhere," I explained more slowly. "The first one was a women's shelter that received an anonymous donation. That was the same day the Japanese art was taken. Next was a church donation when your captain was robbed. Today was a food bank donation after the art museum robbery. They were all high sums of money. We're talking over a quarter million combined."

"What does that have to do with stealing art?" Nick asked giving me a puzzled look.

"Don't you see? She's robbing from the rich to give to the poor."

Nick leaned back in his chair. "Look, I really don't think someone is playing Robin Hood."

"Dude, think about it. It's got the whole Robin Hood, hero-complex, epic saga written all over it. So, she's like this socialist Waschbar, taking from the rich and spreading all this ill-gotten wealth amongst the poor."

"And she's quite handy with a bow and arrow," I added.

"Crossbow," Nick corrected me.

"Now as the tale goes," Monroe continued, "ultimately, Robin Hood and his band of merry men, and some women in certain texts, sought justice in their land and triumphed over their enemies, etcetera, etcetera." He put his hand to his chin. "Or was he betrayed by a woman and killed? You know, the end of the story is rather murky. It really depends on which version you read. Now the one that I prefer is…"

Nick scoffed, cutting Monroe off. "Renée, I think you're grasping at straws."

"But those cards she left… Law enforcement being a thief instead of a guard? Wasn't the person guarding the Japanese art the Sheriff of Multnomah County?"

"The Sheriff isn't a thief."

"No, but there was a Sheriff of Nottingham who was," Monroe said with a grin.

"And then heirs and castles…"

"But Captain Renard isn't a King."

"No, but maybe he represents Prince John," I said. "And then the last card talks about tipping the scales. Well, her donations would definitely fit into that balance she's been alluding to."

"While it's a weird way to go about it, you gotta admit it makes sense," Monroe added.

Nick was still giving us a deadpan stare as he crossed his arms.

"Do you have any other leads?" I asked.

Nick shook his head. "Just the two Waschbars."

"Then what would it hurt to see if those three places have some kind of connection?"

Nick was silent. "I could check it out. But if they were anonymous donations…" He put a hand to his mouth like he was mulling over the possibility.

"If this Epicurean Thievius Raccoonus is as clever as most Waschbars are, it won't be easy," said Monroe.

"Thievius Racoonus?" I raised an eyebrow. "That's not Latin."

"No. It's more like the language of Chuck Jones."

"Oh, yeah. One of the forgotten romance languages of our time," I laughed. "Maybe we can call Acme and have an anvil fall on her head."

Nick sat up in his chair. "Okay, if you two Looney Tunes are done with the jokes, then…"

Monroe stood. "Yeah, sorry, man. We'll be on our way." Monroe reached his hand out and I took it as I rose to my feet.

I turned back to Nick. "Let me know if I'm right on this. I've got a gut feeling these are definitely related."

Nick nodded. "I'll take care of it, Renée. I appreciate the insight."

I paused briefly at his reply. Was he just telling me this or was he being genuine? I searched his face. No, he'd look into it, but he wasn't happy about it.

* * *

A/N: While Robin Hood isn't exactly a fairy tale, it still holds some storybook value.

I retract my earlier statement of changing eye color for this reason: This story is written in first person POV of Renée, who views Captain Renard's eyes as hazel green. Now, if this story were narrative, or omnipresent, or even third person, I would probably go with green eyes, since Sasha Roiz has retweeted that he "believes" his eyes are green. But for the purposes of this story and my character's perception of the world, it's hazel green. I'm sorry TeamRenard for the offense. lol

Gonna be posting chapters 40-45 throughout the day. (:


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

"Are you seriously watching that and taking notes?" Monroe asked as _The Thomas Crown Affair_ played on the TV. "Didn't you get enough from the book?"

"This one is different from the book," I replied as I held my steno pad in my lap, my gaze not deviating from the screen.

I'd spent most of my Sunday going over the theft in my mind. I was determined to make sense of who was behind it. Well, at least to eliminate the ones that it might be.

"But watch," I continued. "It takes three guys with an over-the-top elaborate plan to try to steal one Monet painting. They're clipping wires inside walls, changing wardrobes, and using hidden mics to talk to one another." I shook my head. "This Waschbar waltzes in single-handedly in broad daylight, lifts the painting off the wall, shoots a guard, and walks out. No covert operative moves, nothing."

"Well, you said she was dressed all in black. At least that fits the art thief movie plot, right?" He motioned to the outfits of the guys on screen.

I shrugged. "That was about it."

We watched the movie further as the elaborate plan was foiled. All that hard work for nothing. Thomas Crown walked in after the real thieves got caught and took the Monet painting, walking out without a hitch.

"See, that guy just walked in single-handedly and put Monet's _San Giorgio Maggiore at Dusk_ in his briefcase," Monroe pointed out.

"Yeah, but he uses the chaos from the first attempted theft. It's still not the same as the Waschbar," I retorted.

"Well, the movies and real life aren't exactly the same thing."

"True," I agreed. "And by the way, that you know the name of that Monet painting… That's really sexy." I grinned up at him.

"Hey, I'm a fan of real art."

"So you keep telling me."

We watched as Thomas Crown and Catherine Banning fall for each other during their cat-and-mouse game around recovering the painting. After the movie, Monroe and I were cuddled on the couch and the steno pad had been cast to the side.

"So, are you ready to watch _Entrapment_ next?"

"Another art theft movie?"

"Umm, perhaps."

Monroe chuckled. "You aren't going to let this go are you?"

I smirked as I looked up at him. "Since when do I ever let things go?"

"You don't want me to answer that, right?"

"There has to be a way to clear Natalie from all this."

"I'm sure Nick has already done that today. He probably already had her in for questioning, you know?"

"But there has to be a way to know if she's a Waschbar."

"Dude, I've already told ya…"

"Right, the nose knows," I cut in. "The nose…" I glanced at my watch as I stood up. "Wanna go to yoga with me?"

Monroe sighed. "You know, no offense, but that's really not much of a workout worth doing again."

"No, not for yoga. Well, we'll be doing yoga, but maybe you can double check and see if Natalie is actually a Waschbar now that you're well again."

Monroe perked up. "Oh, so you mean like an undercover kinda thing?"

"Yeah, in a way. At least if we know that much it'll help."

"Well, what if she is though?"

"Then that might help Nick. If she's never had a woge in front of me, then she's definitely not having one in front of him."

"Yeah, well, you might be right about that."

"So, will you do it?"

"Yeah. But what should we wear, I mean, so we're incognito?"

"Monroe, they already know us. We don't have to hide who we are."

"Too bad I didn't bring my hat."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Monroe and I dressed quickly since yoga started in twenty minutes. Surely Monroe would be able to tell if Natalie was a Waschbar in that little yoga studio. Hopefully she'd be there tonight.

"So, just give me a thumbs up or down when you know, okay?" I said on the walk over.

"Maybe we could make up a code phrase instead," Monroe replied. "You know, like, if she is then I could say, 'The fox is in the henhouse.'"

I stopped walking to stare at him. "If you say that, don't you think that might sound a bit suspicious?"

"Well, I can't say raccoon, because then they'd know what I was talking about." He tapped his temple. "What about two colors of paper? Green could mean 'yes' and red could mean 'no.' We could go back and get some."

I rested my hand against his cheek. "Let's just stick to the thumbs up and down thing. Maybe next time we go undercover we'll use something more James Bond-ish."

Monroe shrugged. "Okay, I suppose."

I held my breath as I opened the door to the yoga studio. Natalie was in her usual spot in the back row. Good, she was here. She smiled faintly as we entered. She wasn't her normal cheery self. Maybe Nick had already talked to her after all.

Monroe stepped in behind me and I reached for his hand. I turned quickly toward him as his thumb went to the up position. Crap! I turned back and smiled at Natalie. So she really was Wesen. Her control was superb.

She came towards us as she reached for my arm. "Renée, am I glad you're here tonight! Did you hear about what happened at the Portland Art Museum yesterday?"

"Yes. I heard," I said nonchalantly. She didn't need to know that I did more than just hear about it.

"Gosh, it's just awful though, isn't it? Lydia is beside herself since she's responsible for getting that painting back to Italy. The police are investigating people that were at Lydia's gala, too." She shook her head. "Renée, I got called in to the police station this morning. Oh, gosh. I thought I was gonna faint right in that little room they put me in. The cop questioned me about where I was yesterday." She held her arms tightly. "Have they questioned you guys, too?"

I nodded reluctantly. "Yeah. I was questioned, too."

She looked at Monroe. "Didn't they question you?"

"No, umm, not yet." Monroe rocked on his heels a bit.

"Of course I was at home with my cat yesterday afternoon," Natalie continued, "so I couldn't prove anything when they asked where I was." She shook her head slowly. "The cop said he'd be in touch with me if he had further questions, but he didn't seem too relaxed when he said it." Great, that wasn't such a compelling alibi. Oh, this wasn't good at all.

"I'm sure it'll be all right," I replied as convincingly as I could.

"Gosh, I hope so. And it had to be a sexy cop that questioned me, too," she said with a sigh. I fought to keep from rolling my eyes.

"Sexy, yeah right," Monroe mumbled sarcastically behind me. I elbowed him quickly.

"He had dark hair and these killer blue eyes," she went on as another sigh escaped her. She didn't mention Captain Debonair, so she must not have seen him. She might have fainted for sure had that been the case.

Speaking of blue eyes, Natalie's were blue again, too.

"What happened to the green contacts?" I asked her.

"Oh, I've been doing the blue thing lately," she casually replied. Was she wearing them yesterday? This was getting so difficult.

"Maybe we should stretch before yoga starts," I suggested while motioning Natalie forward. As we walked toward the back row, Johnna Smallwood appeared from the closet area.

"I found a mat," she said to Natalie then looked up at me. "Hi," she smiled in my direction. "Renée, isn't it?"

I nodded. "Johnna. Yes, good to see you here." Well, no wonder Monroe smelled Waschbar. Crap.

"I invited Johnna to try yoga with us," said Natalie. "She seemed interested in giving it a shot. There oughta be enough room in the back for all of us."

Natalie looked over at Monroe. "Alicia is here tonight, so this one might be even easier than the one Robin led us through."

"Easier, huh? Great," he said sardonically.

I turned toward him quickly, eyeballing him.

"Sorry, it's just that if it's easier then…"

I shook my head at him. I could care less right now if he was making jabs about yoga. I eyeballed him again and gave him a knowing look.

Monroe raised his eyebrows like he understood. He shrugged back at me. Could he tell if Natalie was a Waschbar if Johnna was here? Ooh, the customary thing! Perhaps Johnna and Monroe would share their woge and then Natalie would feel obligated to do hers.

I turned quickly back to Johnna. "Johnna, this is my boyfriend Monroe," I said as I smiled wider than I probably should have.

Monroe took her hand. "Nice to meet you," he said. It was all I could do to not stare at Johnna to see what would happen, but I had to keep a straight face. Monroe waited a moment, again rocking on his heels. When Johnna didn't morph, Monroe went ahead and did.

Johnna kept a blank stare similar to mine and just smiled. "Pleasure," she said quickly then turned back to her mat, rolling it out on the floor. Natalie hadn't even been paying attention.

As Johnna bent down, I jerked my head back to Monroe. His eyes widened, and he gave me an exaggerated shrug this time. I ran a hand through my hair, then pulled out my elastic band and pulled it back into a ponytail. I rolled out my mat next to Johnna, who had decided to put her mat between Natalie and me.

If only I could freely talk to Monroe. Maybe code phrases would've come in handy tonight after all. Instead I held my thumb out, moving it up and down at him. Monroe just shook his head at me like he didn't know. Double crap!

Alicia ran us though a nice, leisurely yoga session. For the next hour I periodically glanced up at Johnna, who for a first timer was adapting to the movements with ease. I tried to watch her form. Maybe something she did would spark a memory from that day at the museum. I couldn't see Natalie from this spot. No, this wasn't going to help at all. I glanced back at Monroe. He was looking a bit bored at this slow pace.

We had a fifteen minute meditation and after our 'Namaste,' I hurried to roll up my mat.

"Wow, did you see her?" Natalie asked. "This lady is a natural!"

"I did," I replied. "Johnna, you picked that up really fast."

"Well, I was a gymnast in high school," she said with a half-smile. Gymnasts moved like ninjas. Maybe it was a clue.

"Natalie, I wanted to talk to you if you had a moment." Perhaps I could get her alone outside and Monroe could determine what she was from there.

"Well, I have to get Johnna home. We kinda carpooled here tonight. Can you call me later?"

I nodded, suppressing a sigh. "Sure. Yeah, I'll just call you." My eyes lit up. "Actually can I get your number again? I just got a new phone and accidently deleted my address book."

"Sure, of course," said Natalie with a smile.

I reached for my bag and produced a pen and a card, handing them over. Natalie wrote her name and number down… with her left hand. Oh, I'd just hit the crap trifecta!

"Thanks," I said while evening out my tone.

"Definitely call me tonight," said Natalie. She looked past my shoulder. "Good seeing you again, Monroe."

"Good to see you, too," Monroe replied with a small wave.

Natalie and Johnna walked out in unison, closing the studio door behind them.

I practically growled in frustration.

Monroe slid my blue mat in its bag as I threw on my jacket, slinging my mat bag over my shoulder. I remained silently frustrated until we're halfway back to my house.

"You think it's safe to talk now?" I whispered.

"Yeah, we were fine when we left the studio."

"Oh. Well, then you should've said something."

"I thought you were contemplating."

I chuckled, ruining my frustration. "So, what just happened back there?"

"Well… Your yoga studio is a small, confined space. So when we first walked in I caught the Waschbar scent easily. Now the problem, dude, is with that small of a space I couldn't tell who it was coming off of. I mean, I could've walked up right on them, but most people don't like to be scratched and sniffed if you ask me."

"Johnna is definitely one, so you got something from her, but she didn't… reciprocate the woge."

"Remember, I told you some Wesen like to cloak themselves. Waschbars are crafty like that. And in a room that tiny, she knew I'd have no way of knowing which one of those ladies was a Waschbar. Same thing could be said for Natalie."

I nodded. There was a guy in college I'd hung around with for a few years that was a Waschbar. I didn't find out until he got drunk at a graduation party and didn't hold back his woge. Even Chloe was clueless. Her sense of smell was good, but her nose wasn't as keen as Monroe's was on picking up on Wesen scents. Apparently small spaces were more of a hindrance than a help, regardless of how keen his nose was.

"So both of them could be Waschbars," I said aloud as I was thinking.

"They did seem kinda chummy. Birds of a feather and all, you know? They both might be doing a little cloak and dagger. Well, in this case, one of them might be doing a cloak and arrow."

"Well, this didn't work out like I planned at all." I turned back toward Monroe. "Did your nose pick up any Chanel No. 5?"

"No, I checked for that, too. No one was wearing any. But, oh man, some of those ladies really need to shower before going to yoga. It was a bit frowsty in there." Monroe held his nose for effect.

I reached for his arm as we walked onto my street. "Sorry, Honey. But I appreciate you trying."

I really wanted to clear Natalie's name, but it wasn't looking good. I'd just have to come up with a new plan.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

I called Natalie later that night.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" she asked.

"Do you know when the next art gala is?" I asked. "You'd mentioned Johnna was taking over immediately."

The question served two purposes: It gave me something I needed to talk to her about, and if there was one coming up soon, it would give me another opportunity to figure out what Natalie was… or hopefully wasn't.

"Oh! Didn't I tell you already? Gosh, I'm sorry, Renée. Johnna has her first event this Tuesday."

Tuesday. Perfect. The gallery was a much bigger area and Monroe would have no problem determining what she was there, for sure.

"Tuesday, that's great," I replied with a smile.

"So you're going to come? Oh, gosh. I'm sure she'll be thrilled if you can."

"Count me and Monroe in."

Natalie gave me the details. It was going to be held at the same venue it always was. Everything was practically the same, except Johnna was showcasing interactive art, which was new to me. How did one sell interactive art?

Natalie talked more about the robbery. She brought up that Johnna had also been interviewed by police already. Since Johnna was at yoga tonight, it meant that Nick hadn't gotten a confession out of her, either. Natalie still sounded panicked about all of it. I assured her it was probably standard procedure to question people that Lydia knew. Who better to steal art than someone close to the curator? I thought about Madame Dazzles. Maybe she was the thief. Nah. That would require her to get her hands dirty. Besides, she didn't seem the type to sprout fur. She was more the type to wear it.

I let out a sigh after Natalie and I hung up.

Monroe came out of my kitchen. "Did I hear you mention another art gala?" he groaned slightly.

"Yeah, but this way you should have no problem using your nose. And we'll just be in and out, I promise."

"So, can we use code phrases this time?"

"Sure," I grinned up at him, "if you really want to."

"Maybe I can rent a tux." He glanced up in thought as he stroked his bearded chin with his hand.

"Okay, that might be going overboard, Mr. Bond."

He smiled brightly as he leaned against the kitchen doorway. "The name's Monroe. Just Monroe."

* * *

A/N: Monroe sure does love undercover work, huh? lol!


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

Blue or pink? I couldn't decide on which color. Both dresses were beautiful, but I couldn't pick just one. I was back at Sandra's Boutique, trying to find a spy dress for the gala tomorrow. It seemed like such a waste to get a new dress when the only reason I was going to wear it was to have an excuse for Monroe to use his Blutbad talents. Surely I'd find another place to wear it some other time. My hand passed over a red dress that reminded me of Sylvia Trench's in _Dr. No_. I imagined showing up in that alongside Monroe in a tuxedo. A small grin passed my lips. Too bad it was red. No, back to the pink one… or perhaps maybe the blue? Hmm…

"Go with the blue one," said Sandra as she came up beside me. "That cut will look better on you."

"Thanks, Sandra. Do you have it in a…"

"Six?" she chimed in with a knowing smile. "Absolutely! Let me go grab one, so you can try it on."

She bounced off to the back room as I looked around some more. Another lady was perusing the clearance rack and I smiled at her as she picked up a red strapless dress. Ah, another red one. And it was absolutely gorgeous. Sometimes I really missed that color. But, that was fine. Red could stay in the back closet. She looked at the price-tag, let out a sigh, and her face contorted into a beaver. Her woge was brief, and she put the dress back as she retracted.

"Size six!" Sandra said as she emerged from the back. "Go try it on. You'll be pleased with this one."

I took it to the dressing room, and sure enough, Sandra was spot on. The long, sapphire blue dress was the perfect cut, and the floaty, layered fabric just added to the glamour. I redressed quickly and took my purchase up to the counter.

I cast Sandra a warm smile. "Blue wins."

"I'm in this business for a reason. I know what looks good." Her squirrel features sprung out from her round face and I nodded at her.

"So, will I be seeing you at the gala tomorrow?"

"Not this one. I've been busy with dress schedules. We're coming up on the busier months for weddings, so I've been working with dealers for bridesmaid dress lines instead of painting. It's been crazy. But the next gala I'll be there. Let me know how Johnna's first gala goes, okay? I'm curious how she's going to run things. I'm so used to Lydia."

"I heard she was doing interactive art?" I posed it as a question since I was still clueless what that meant.

"Interactive? Really?" She seemed surprised. "Well, that's not my style, of course, but it would be interesting to see."

"Umm, what is it exactly?"

"It could be a number of things. Some interactive art uses real people to act out their work, like a performance. Some of it is computerized, digital images, and some even incorporate video. It's really interesting to see what they come up with because the style has so many different variables."

"So how do they sell it?"

"Most don't. It's like they're trying to spread an idea or a message with their art," Sandra explained. "I'm sure some exhibits can be rented out, so there's still ways to make money with it." She shook her head. "It's not my way of expression, but it's really nifty to see what others do with it."

"I'll miss seeing you there." There weren't too many people I knew at these things, so familiar faces were always nice. At least I had Natalie.

"I'll be at the next one as long as she goes back to displaying paintings."

Price-Tag Lady was standing behind me, waiting patiently. I said a quick goodbye to Sandra so she could take care of her.

After shopping, I stopped in at a sandwich shop next door and grabbed some lunch. I ought to be doing work instead of shopping. But I was mostly ahead; just some minor details were needed on the next training. My mind was focused on other things like Waschbars and galas. Hopefully with the large, open room Monroe could determine if Natalie was Wesen. Maybe he could even tell if Johnna wore Chanel No. 5. If Monroe could clear Natalie's name, that was worth going to the gala. Her alibi couldn't be confirmed and that worried me. Granted, Nick had nothing to connect her to the theft either, or she wouldn't have been allowed to leave. But that she could be… Well, I just had to know if it was a possibility. As for Johnna, Nick had said her alibi, while not ironclad, was more justifiable than Natalie's. He wouldn't tell me much more than that when I'd called him earlier today. Monroe would figure it out. Monroe's nose was better than any alibi.

As I was finishing up, I felt eyes on me and looked toward the sandwich shop window. Nothing out of the ordinary. I shook it off and headed back to my car.

On the drive home I listened to Goyte's 'Smoke and Mirrors.'

"_You're a fraud and you know it,__  
__But it's too good to throw it all away.__  
__But it's always been a smoke and mirrors game.__  
__Anyone would do the same…"_

Was Natalie playing out some charade? Was it all just a game to her? I couldn't imagine her being a thief, or even Wesen for that matter. But in this world there was deceit around every corner. Things weren't always what they appeared to be.

As I turned left on Northwest Gilsan Street, a glimpse of an orange truck in the rearview mirror caught my eye. It was behind me on West Burnside Street, too. When I turned again on Northwest 23rd Avenue, the truck followed. Were they following me? No, I was just being paranoid. Many people drove this path. When I finally turned on my street, the truck was still behind me. I pulled into my driveway while watching my rearview. The truck drove on by. See, just paranoia. I shook my head and went inside.

I placed my dress in the closet and took out my notes for my training tomorrow. Something still felt off. I stood from the couch and peeked out my window. The orange truck had returned and was parked across the street from my house. No, this wasn't a coincidence anymore. I pulled out my phone and called Monroe.

"Hey. I wasn't expecting to hear from you until later this evening," Monroe said.

"Are you busy?" I asked.

"What's wrong?" he instinctively responded. I told him about the orange truck and how it had followed me.

"It's parked across the street from me, and it may be nothing but…"

"Say no more. I'll be there in ten minutes. Stay in the house." He hung up before I could reply.

I remained fixated near the window. Was it a man or woman in the truck? I couldn't make out the face from here. Perhaps I oughta get the license plate. Police ran plate numbers all the time on those cop shows. Leaning in closer to the window, I squinted to make out the plate, but it was too far away.

Ignoring Monroe's advice, I opened the front door to get a better look. As my foot hit the last step, the truck sped off. Fortunately, I caught the license plate numbers before it had gotten too far away. I went back inside and jotted it down on my notepad.

My nerves were all jittery and I trembled as I double checked the front door lock. Who or what was following me? I had too much on my mind to add something else. Clearing my thoughts, I sat back down on my couch and focused on work as I hummed 'Somebody's Watching Me.'

"_I always feel like somebody's watchin' me,__  
__And I have no privacy.__  
__Oh, oh, oh, I always feel like somebody's watchin' me.__  
__Who's playin' tricks on me?"_

Whoever it was, they were gone… for now.

Shortly after there was a loud knock on my door. I jumped up and checked the peephole. It was Monroe. Thank goodness.

I opened the door and he looked me over. "So where is this truck? I didn't see anything orange parked anywhere."

"They drove off not too long after I got off the phone with you. I'm sorry, maybe it wasn't anything." I purposely failed to mention they drove off after I'd gone outside.

"But you said they followed you home?"

I nodded. "They were behind me when I left on Southwest Ash Street, so that's a good seven turns to my house."

"Let's call Nick just to be safe." Monroe paced the floor a bit. "It just doesn't sound good to me." It didn't sound good to me, either.

"I hate to bug him if it's nothing."

"No, you go on and bug him," Monroe coaxed as he gestured his hands out. "If it's nothing then it won't hurt anything, you know?"

I pulled out my cell and dialed Nick's number while Monroe kept close watch at the window.

"Burkhardt," Nick said sharply into the receiver.

"Hey, it's Renée."

"Everything all right?"

"Well, maybe. Maybe not. I think I may have been followed home." I told Nick the same story of the orange truck. "I got the license plate number, if that helps."

"Was it an orange Ford truck?" Nick asked.

"It could've been. I'm really not sure."

"What's the plate number?"

I reached for my notepad on the coffee table. "It was an Oregon license plate, 734 BFU."

Nick was silent a moment. "Let me call you back here in a minute, okay?"

"Sure, that's fine."

Monroe turned as I hung up the phone. "You got their plate number?"

I sat down on the couch. "Well, yeah. Isn't that what you're supposed to do?"

"Yeah. I didn't even think about the plate number until you said you had it."

"I watch too much TV." I gave him a half-smile.

"Well, if _Starsky and Hutch_ keeps you safe, then so much the better."

I laughed. He could always make me laugh. "I'm not watching _Starsky and Hutch_. That was cancelled ages ago."

"Shows you how much I keep track of what's on television, huh?"

The phone rang again. It was Nick. That was fast.

"Sorry, I had to go someplace where I could talk," said Nick in a whisper.

"So, were you able to run the plate?"

"Didn't have to. I know the truck you saw today."

"You do?"

Monroe moved over toward me. "He does, what?"

I put the phone on speaker. "Yeah, it belongs to an Eisbiber. I had a talk with them well over a month ago when they did the same thing at my house," said Nick as he grumbled into the phone. "You haven't had anyone over to work on your refrigerator, have you?"

"No, my fridge is fine. What does that have to do with an Eisbiber?"

Nick told me about Bud the repairman and how he'd fled Nick's house when he'd realized he was working on a Grimm's fridge. Juliette had spotted an orange truck outside their house, taking pictures. After driving to the truck owner's house, he'd confronted two Eisbiber about spreading the word a Grimm was in town. This story sounded very familiar.

"I don't know how they found you and why they're right back to spying again," Nick sighed loudly. "I'll just have to drive over there and have another talk with them before they start egging your house."

"Egging my house?"

"Yeah, these Eisbiber kids coated our windows, sunny-side up."

"Great." I sighed into the phone. Just what I needed to clean up.

"It takes time for chickens to make those," said Monroe. "Don't kids learn that in school?"

"Maybe that missed that class," I replied, refraining from grinning in case he was serious.

"So, this Eisbiber…" I said to Nick, who surprisingly hadn't retorted to Monroe's remark. "Did he think he barely got out alive when he ran off?"

"Yeah, sounds about right. Why?"

"I think I know how the Eisbiber community knows about me. I'll call you back." I hung up the phone before Nick asked any questions.

Monroe sat on the couch next to me. "How do they know about you?"

"Two words," I sighed as I shook my head. "Sewing circle."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

I dialed Sandra's business number.

"Hi, Renée. Umm, something wrong with the dress?" she asked nervously.

"No the dress is fine. But I need to ask, have you said anything to anyone about my little secret?"

She gulped on the other end. I took that as a 'yes.'

"Sandra, please tell me you didn't."

"Well, I really didn't mean to. The lady that was behind you… Well, that was the one I'd talked to before about the male Grimm that was spotted. You remember me telling you about that?"

"Yes, I remember. Go on."

"Well, she was talking to me about the Grimm again, how she and her husband actually followed him home, but then the Grimm's girlfriend had followed her back to her house. She was afraid for her and her children's lives. Then her husband and the other Eisbiber… You know, the one who'd been in the Grimm's house? Well, they were confronted by the Grimm again, and the Grimm promised he wasn't going to kill any of them if they promised to leave him alone. Well, she didn't believe it when they told her about what had happened. She told me she still thinks that a Grimm is gonna murder her family." Sandra took in a breath. She'd been talking nonstop. "So that's when I told her that Grimms aren't all bad and there's good ones out there, too. So then she wanted to know why I'd think such a thing, and then I mentioned I knew one. So then she asked if it was the same guy, and I told her it was a woman. So then she didn't believe me, and I said… Well, I told her it was you." She heaved out another breath and a few chattering noises came out. Clearly she was having a woge from the sound of it.

"Oh, Sandra."

So, it had been Price-Tag Lady who was stalking me. She was probably watching me at the sandwich shop, too. I really needed to listen to my instincts more often. I wasn't as paranoid as I thought.

"Renée, I am so incredibly sorry! Please don't be angry!" She was making more chattering noises along with a few clicks mixed in, which reminded me of Chloe. "The next dress you pick out is totally on me. Will you forgive me?"

I turned to Monroe, who was shaking his head at me. He had been right. A Nussesser just couldn't be trusted. They were chit-chatters.

"Yeah, I forgive you, but please try to refrain from telling anyone else. That lady followed me home and scared the crap out of me."

"Oh, golly! She did?"

"Yeah, and I almost called the police on her." Well, actually I _had_ called the police on her. And she was probably going to get a personal visit from him, but Sandra didn't need to know that.

"Renée, oh, I am _so_ sorry. I had no idea she'd actually follow you. Well, maybe I should've since she said she'd followed that other Grimm, but I was trying to let her know that you all aren't terrible people like we were brought up to believe. I really was trying to help, honestly I was."

"I know you meant well, but let's just keep from talking about it going forward, okay? Even if they talk bad about Grimms, just let it be."

"I will. I promise. Thank you for not being upset. And I mean it. Your next dress is free!"

Monroe shook his head at me as I hung up with Sandra.

I let out a sigh. "You can go on and say it."

"I don't think I really have to, do I?"

I rested my head on his shoulder. "If Natalie is Wesen, I'm not saying a word."

Monroe patted my back. "Good idea."

* * *

A/N: The Eisbiber community is back to stalking again. Guess Monroe was right, Sandra was a chatty Cathy after all.


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

The next day I tried to focus on work instead of Waschbars. Time moved slowly as I kept glancing at my watch. It was going to be a long day.

Finally at five I rushed home to get ready. Monroe arrived right as I was putting on my blue sapphire necklace.

"I thought this gala thing wasn't until seven."

"It is, but I want to get there early before Natalie arrives, so she doesn't have a chance to hug anyone."

"Oh, that won't be a problem even if she does," Monroe replied. "My nose is in tip-top shape, and that gallery isn't compact like the yoga studio. We'll know for sure this time, I assure you of that."

I breathed out a bit. "Okay, good. So we don't have to rush."

Monroe smiled at me. "You look amazing, by the way."

I grinned. "Thanks. I like that blue tie." I ran my hand across the material.

"It goes well with your dress, I think. When you said sapphire, I was kinda at a loss for the right blue," he replied. "But I think I found a proper shade."

Monroe had done well. The blue looked sharp against his white shirt and navy jacket. He'd come a long way from tan vests and burgundy plaid ties. Either way, he always looked good to me.

I evened out my makeup from the rush job I'd done and did one last once over in the mirror. I gave myself an appreciative nod. I'd probably taken more time getting ready that I'd actually spend being there tonight. Maybe Monroe would find interactive art more interesting and we could stay a bit longer. At least we could have a free glass of wine if nothing else.

I grabbed my jacket and clutch as we headed out.

The drive was quick and I took in a much needed breath as we parked by the Imago Art Space. Monroe reached for his hat from the back seat and put it on before getting out of the car. He moved to the other side and reached for my hand.

"Are you going to wear that hat inside?" I asked curiously as I got out of the car.

"What's wrong with the hat?"

"Nothing, it's just that the brown really doesn't go with the outfit."

"But it..."

I shook my head at him.

"But I like the hat," he muttered as he grudging took it off and laid it in the car seat.

I have him a small kiss as I closed my car door. "It would've messed up your hair anyway."

"So do you remember the code phrases?" Monroe asked as we approached the studio.

"Yes, I have them right here." I pointed at my forehead.

Monroe grinned like a kid. "Good. Let's do this then." He reached for the studio door.

We walked into a circus. At least that's the first thing it reminded me of. People were dressed in strange outfits, moving about to music, while others were making shadow puppets on walls, and some were showing films of abstract shapes on projector screens. It was loud and very animated.

"Are you sure, uh, we're in the right place?" asked Monroe as we paused in the entranceway.

"Yeah, this is it. Welcome to interactive art."

Monroe sighed as he shook his head. "I never thought these things could get worse, but they just did."

"It's still an open bar," I said while suppressing a laugh.

"Well, at least the good part is remaining consistent."

Monroe and I walked around as I searched for red hair. Monroe was dodging and ducking his head as we passed by each exhibit.

"Dude, they're like flying over me. How the hell is this art?"

"Art comes in all forms. This is just theirs."

"If this is art then I'm a monkey's uncle."

I grinned at him. "I'm sure you could turn that into art, too if you bought a costume."

"Not funny."

Finally I caught a glimpse of red in the far corner.

"There she is," I exclaimed. "Let's go over."

Natalie was wearing an off-the-shoulder violet gown with satin that flowed out to the ground. It must have been another one of Madame Dazzles' hand-me-downs. It was breathtaking.

"Hey!" said Natalie as we approached.

"You look stunning tonight," I said with a smile. "Turn around and let me get a good look."

"It's a Versace! I am wearing a real Versace! I've been thanking Lydia all night," she beamed. Natalie did a slow twirl as I looked toward Monroe.

"The carnations aren't in bloom," said Monroe in an awkward voice as he pursed his lips.

"What was that?" asked Natalie.

"Nothing," I said quickly. "Natalie, that is an amazing dress."

"Yours is beautiful, too, Renée."

I smiled. "Thank goodness for Sandra."

"So, what do you think about all this?" She moved her hand around the room.

"It's really… busy," I said. That was the kindest word my mental filing cabinet could come up with.

"Yeah, but isn't it just exciting though? Johnna is already getting some notoriety for tonight and this is just her first one. I even talked to a friend of mine at the paper who's doing an article about it."

"It ought to be an interesting article," I replied while trying to hide my smirk. "Well, I think we're going to look around some more."

"Make sure you say a kind word to Lydia. She could use it with all this robbery stuff still going on."

"Is she here?"

"Oh, yeah. She wanted to celebrate Johnna's first gala."

Natalie pointed to Madame Dazzles, who looked odd without her other bookend standing beside her. She seemed kind of lop-sided that way. She was dressed as sophisticated as ever in a saffron gown that went well with her sandalwood hair. Only Madame Dazzles could pull off saffron. The dress was just as amazing as the one Natalie was wearing.

I nodded. "I'll stop and talk to her before I leave. We can't stay too long tonight."

"Oh, that's too bad. Well, I'm going back over to talk with Johnna. You guys have fun, and if I don't see you before I leave, have a good night." I gave my human friend a quick hug.

I leaned in close to Monroe as she walked off. "So, that's a relief."

Monroe shook his head. "I guess my nose was off after all." He made a sour face as he scowled slightly to himself.

"It's okay. It was raining really hard that night. Maybe it was a raccoon outside."

"I dunno, man. I mean, I'm just not used to being off my game like that."

I reached for his hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

"So, if it's not Natalie, then it still could be Johnna."

"Or it's possible it's some other crazy Waschbar," Monroe replied in a whisper. "It doesn't have to be this one."

I nodded slowly. I really wanted to solve this puzzle. It was frustrating. But maybe Monroe was right. It could be someone I'd never met.

We walked over to the bar for our consolation prize of free wine. It was the least something I could enjoy. Interactive art was not my thing, and it surely wasn't Monroe's either.

"I am glad it's not Natalie," I said as I took a sip of cabernet. "If nothing else, that part of the mystery is solved."

"Yeah, glad you still have that friendship…" he trailed off as he squinted his eyes. I turned to see Natalie dancing around with one of the performers. "But she is one odd bird, I gotta admit."

I chuckled. "She's fun and I like her."

He shrugged as he took a long sip of wine. "Then that's all that matters, man."

We watched the circus from the side lines as we finished off our free wine.

"So, was there anything… or anyone here you wanted to buy tonight?" Monroe asked with a smirk.

I laughed. "No. It's safe to say that I'm not purchasing anyone. I don't think they would go with my décor." I reached up to adjust his tie as I gave him a smile. "We don't have to stay."

"Good, because this carnival ride is giving me a headache." Monroe glanced at my hand. "You've got your watch on the wrong wrist," he shook his head.

"Wrong wrist? Is there a correct one?" I asked bemused.

"Yeah, of course there is." He gave me a disapproving shake of his head like I should have known. "Only left-handed people wear a watch on their right wrist."

"Only left-handed people?"

"Yeah. See, you wear your watch on the less dominant side to prevent it from getting all scraped up," Monroe explained as he moved my watch to my other wrist. "But back in the day most wore them on their left wrist since the stems are typically placed on the right side of the watch. It's easier to adjust the time without removing it, you know?"

My mind was taking in what Monroe had just said. Left-handed. My mental filing cabinets began to burst open as my mind starting putting puzzle pieces together. I shut my eyes as I tried to keep up with my brain.

"Are you okay?" Monroe's voice sounded concerned and I held up a finger while I kept my eyes closed.

The memories were flashing back. Watch on right wrist. Signing paperwork. Giving back to charity. Natalie's dress. Goodwill. Blue eyes. Cloaking. Birds of a feather. Could it be? It all fit! No, it definitely wasn't Johnna, but I knew who it was. Well, I was at least ninety-nine percent sure. The only way to be a hundred percent was to confront her. My eyes popped open.

"I'll be right back!" I said and gave Monroe a quick kiss. "You're a genius!"

He looked back nonplussed. Before he could reply, I moved briskly through the crowd to Madame Dazzles, who was standing with Johnna. Johnna was receiving accolades from a few patrons on her first exhibit. Her watch was on her left wrist. I looked down at Madame Dazzles' wrist. Sure enough, she was wearing an expensive watch on her right wrist. Holy crap!

I approached as Madame Dazzles turned with her faux smile.

"Renée. How are you?" she asked.

"I'm good. How have you been… since the robbery?" I asked while watching her reaction.

Her smile faded and she shook her head. "It's been so tragic. The museum in Florence is up in arms over this, and I'm working to keep up the hope that the perpetrator will be found and the painting returned." I half expected violins to play a maudlin tune behind her.

"Could we speak privately for a moment?" I asked.

She turned to Johnna, who was engrossed in a conversation with a few other women. She turned back to face me. "Yes, I can step away briefly."

We walked to a secluded area near the back of the gallery.

"So, I have to ask… Why did you do it?"

She looked at me blankly. "Do _what_ exactly?"

"That's a great charade you gave the police. All the yelling and crying, but it was you who stole the painting."

Her face colored. "Renée, I really don't know where these accusations are coming from. I wouldn't dream of…"

"Save it, Lydia." I was being bold, but I knew I was right. "You pointed that crossbow at me. How did you learn to use one so well?"

She shook her head as her mouth gaped slightly. I was rattling her cage.

"I think you should leave now before I call the police for slander and defamation of character."

"I saw your blue eyes stare right at me that day at the museum. And I also saw your woge."

At those words her raccoon features burst forth as she gasped at me. "Grimm!" she hissed out as she retracted.

"Waschbar," I replied in an even tone as my eyes fixed on hers.

"Come with me," she said as her face relaxed. "I can explain everything, but we need more privacy than this."

Well, that wasn't the kind of a response I'd expected. But I'd been right, so I followed Madame Dazzles to a back room area. We walked inside as she flipped on a light switch. It seemed like a large storage room. Paintings and sculptures, some blanketed in white sheets, some stacked around, were covering the floors.

"Just shut the door, so that we won't be interrupted."

As I closed the door behind me, a wave of unease came over me. This woman was a killer. Maybe I should've had Monroe…

"Turn around slowly," Madame Dazzles said, halting my thoughts. I let out a breath. Bad idea, Renée. Bad idea.

I did as she asked and was faced with that crossbow once more. My eyes caught a glimpse of the same satchel from the museum sitting on a crate behind her.

"You keep your crossbow with you?" I asked as I held my hands up.

"One can never be too careful," she replied with a more natural smile.

"I could just scream," I replied.

"This arrow would be in your chest before you could get out a breath."

I thought back to the guard. She was right. He was dead as a doornail as soon as she had shot him. I tried not to let Madame Dazzles see my fear, but I gulped in spite of myself.

"This way," she said as she motioned me further back into the storage room.

I did as she asked, keeping sight of that arrow aimed directly at me. We had moved to the back of the room, away from the door and from anyone who could hear us. Why couldn't I have just been smarter about this? My eyes looked toward the door. It was useless. If I tried to run I'd be dead instantly.

"This is good right here," she said.

"So, did you just bring me back here to kill me, or do you want to tell me the whole story?"

Madame Dazzled laughed. "The whole story?"

In the movies this was the part where the villain had a long monologue, which gave the hero time to save the day. This was no movie, but she liked to talk. Perhaps she'd have a story to share before she shot me dead.

"If I'm going to die, I'd like to know why." My woge of recklessness was still doing the talking for me.

Madame Dazzles was silent for a moment as she brandished her crossbow at me.

"Renée, there are things going on in the Wesen world you wouldn't understand," she began as her woge bubbled under the surface of her skin, but she held it back. That woman had control, no doubt. "There's corruption within the system that's beyond anything you can imagine. What I did was for more than just the money. My thefts… The items I took let them know we're aware of their plans."

She seemed more real to me at this moment than all the other times I'd seen her.

"Whose plans?" I asked.

"Them. The Seven Houses." She watched me. "You're a Grimm, you should know. Your kind has been serving them for centuries."

I shook my head. But if I got out of this I'd find out.

"No matter," Madame Dazzles continued. "Their plans can't be brought to fruition and we must stop it. And this is only the beginning."

"But what about the donations?" I asked.

She eyed me curiously. "How do you know about that?"

"Every time something was stolen there was a large anonymous donation. They announced it on the news. It was too coincidental. Was that part of the plan, too?"

Her crossbow wavered slightly.

"The money was just my way to give back to those less fortunate. I grew up in an orphanage. I had to learn what I was on my own. You have no sense of what that does to a Wesen. Growing up… not understanding why all the other kids can't do or see what you can."

"While I may not be Wesen… I understand being different," I said quickly. "I've seen the 'other world' all my life, and the first half of my life I had no one I could confide in. But I realize that's nothing compared to living it."

She shook her head defiantly. "Living it _is_ different. Finding out that you're…" and her woge sprung out. "Finding out you're a creature and not having any family to fully understand what that means… Well, once I did, I discovered my talents were valuable in many ways. But I vowed I'd pay back the ones that took care of me, even when I couldn't control what I was. Shelters, churches, those were my family."

"Of course. That makes sense," I said calmly as she retracted her woge.

She had to believe I was on her side. She maintained her stance and her aim remained steadily fixed, however, while the arrow continued to point at my head. Where was Monroe? Surely he'd miss me, smell me back here. Something.

"But this heist… Oh, this one had purpose. And the rewards served more function than anything I could have dreamed." Her smile was smugly satisfied. Whatever it was, she wasn't about to reveal that to me. "And with all I've done, I'm not about to get caught and ruin everything that's been put into action."

"Well, if it served a good purpose, then…"

"It did, Renée. And it will even help those like you in the end. More than you'll ever know."

"Then I thank you. Now would you please put the weapon down?"

She extended her arm further. "Not yet."

"Okay, so I know you're fantastic with that, and you know I have no chance even without it. So just go and we'll call it even."

Out of the corner of my eye I caught a slight movement coming from the door. Monroe. Oh, God. My focus stayed on Madame Dazzles, but I kept watch of Monroe without her realizing it. Thank goodness he was stealthy. He held his finger up to his lips as he crept forward. Oh, he needed to be careful. One small sound and she'd turn around and shoot him dead. I held my breath at the thought.

"You know who I am," she replied. You'll go to the police."

Monroe moved closer.

"And tell them what?" I bravely stepped forward. "That a Waschbar who was protecting _La Bella_ actually stole it… among other things? Who's going to believe it?"

"Well…" she paused and I moved a few steps closer. So did Monroe. My recklessness pushed against my feet, edging me on.

"I'm not your enemy, Lydia." I inched closer while keeping my hands in view. My eyes caught her wavering again. She only had one arrow. While she was fast, I was, too. If she let this one off, that was it and Monroe would take her down. If only we could call Nick.

Lydia laughed. "I don't want to hurt you. For some reason I couldn't shoot you at the museum. But I will if need be."

"So, then don't. Just walk away."

I took another step. By now I was within a foot of Madame Dazzles' crossbow. Monroe was still a few yards back. He edged closer, but his shoe caught on one of the paintings on the floor. He ducked down quickly, but it was too late. The noise was loud and Madame Dazzles turned, blindly aiming her bow at the noise as Monroe growled. I pushed her arm hard at the moment she shot, knocking the arrow up in the air. Before she had time to move toward Monroe, I took her to the ground as my reckless woge came forth. She had her woge in return, trying to claw at me, but I held her down firmly.

"Dude," Monroe said at the scene of us both.

"Good timing," I managed a reply between breaths.

He looked down at the crossbow. "I could say the same to you."

Madame Dazzles was snarling and clawing at the edge of my dress, ripping it to shreds. She was strong, but not as strong as the Daemonfeuer. And fortunately she couldn't breathe fire, either. This Wesen I had control over. After feeling so helpless with Miss Fireball, this vindicated those feelings. Monroe moved in, letting his woge take over.

"Blutbad," she gasped. Her body tensed and her struggling ceased. Monroe reached down and effortlessly took hold of her.

I managed to get up while pieces of my dress fell to the floor.

"Nick will be here soon with back up, which you don't seem to believe in apparently," Monroe said while retracting.

Madame Dazzles struggled against Monroe's grasp. "If he gets to me, then you will all be doomed," she cried. The fear in her eyes ran though me.

"Lydia, you killed people. You knew this was coming."

"Two lives for many in return," she said obstinately. God, she was more cryptic than her blue cards.

"Police!" was yelled out in the distance followed by shrieks.

"If you have her, I'm going out there." Monroe nodded.

Even in heels I managed to move quickly to the door, open it, and peer out into the gallery. Nick was leading the way, gun drawn.

"Officer, help!" I said and Nick turned quickly. My eyes narrowed on Captain Debonair moving through the crowd behind him. Wow, this had brought in the captain. My breath caught in my throat. I went back to Monroe.

"You need to get out of here, or hide," I hissed to Monroe, who had moved in closer to the door, with Lydia in tow. Surprisingly he nodded and I took hold of Lydia's arms, grasping tightly as Monroe ducked into the shadows.

Nick darted through the room a moment later, holding his gun out towards Madame Dazzles. He reached for her and I let go quickly.

"I'll take it from here," said Nick. He cuffed her while reciting the Miranda rights. Captain Debonair gave me a quick smirk then his lips formed a straight line as he holstered his gun. I hadn't even realized he had one out. He nodded, those hazel green eyes piercing me, but then he returned his gaze to Madame Dazzles and I let out another breath.

Detective Swagger along with Sergeant Jokes-a-Lot had come in, followed by two other officers. The detective looked in my direction and nodded the same way as before to Monroe in the museum. His nod, however, was followed by a smile that said, 'How you doin'?' I simply nodded in reply.

Nick was still holding on to Madame Dazzles. He spoke to an officer to cart her away. She turned quickly, with the saddest eyes ever.

"Don't sleep until you're guilty, 'cause sinners all are we." She called out to me. Then she was gone as the officer led her out of the room.

Nick came forward. "We're going to need another statement from you," he said while trying not to scowl.

I nodded slowly.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, surveying my dress.

"No, I'm fine. I'm just glad you came. Her weapon is over there." I pointed at the bow hidden in the corner near the remnants of my dress. "And there's an arrow somewhere in that direction." I moved my hand toward the door.

"We've got a weapon over in the corner there, Hank," Nick yelled back to Detective Swagger. "And an arrow by this entrance."

"I'm on it," he replied. He donned blue latex gloves and went to work collecting evidence in large Ziploc bags. He even took some of my dress, which made no sense to me.

Captain Renard walked toward me. "Miss Davenport." He held his hands tightly in his trench coat pockets as he gave me a closed-lipped smile. He then turned to Nick. "Make sure you get her statement tonight," he said. "We need to move quickly with this. The mayor wants recovery of these pieces immediately." Hazel green eyes met mine once more. "I hope you weren't harmed in any way tonight, Miss Davenport."

"No, sir. I'm just fine," I replied.

"I'm glad to hear it. I'd hate for anything to happen to you."

"I got lucky today."

"It seems good fortune has smiled on you twice." The captain nodded with a slight twinkle in his eye. "You _are_ a lucky woman." He said something to Nick about prelims and seeing him back at the precinct. As Captain Debonair walked away, I eyed Nick.

"There's going to be a trailer statement, too," I told him.

Nick shook his head. "Where's Monroe?" he whispered.

"He went to hide, but he's in here somewhere."

"Great," he sighed. I'm going to talk to my partner and see if we can clear out before he's found."

"Okay."

"I need you to head to the station. You heard the captain."

"Well, I came here in a yellow Volkswagen." I held in my sarcasm.

"Wait out in the gallery. When you see us leave come back in and you and Monroe get to the station. Understand?"

"Aye, aye, detective." Some of the sarcasm leaked out and I walked off.

As I moved toward the open bar, I received several curious stares. Oh, God. My dress! I looked like I'd lost a battle with a paper shredder. I quickly sat down, tucking my dress in as much as I could. Eagerly I watched the door to the back room.

Natalie rushed up to me. "What's going on?!" she cried out.

"I think they've located the Portland Art Museum thief."

"No way! Do you know who it is?"

"Lydia Swift."

Natalie gasped as she clasped her hand to her mouth. "No! Are you serious?!"

I nodded slowly. "They just escorted her out in handcuffs a few minutes ago."

"Oh, my gosh! This is just…" she was beyond words.

"The world is full of deceit," I said with a sigh. "And she deceived us all."

"I've got to find Johnna. This is tragic. She doesn't need this kind of negative publicity at her first gala. Oh, what is she going to do? Lydia, oh gosh…" She was still mumbling as she walked off. I shook my head. Poor Natalie. Her hero had turned out to be a villain. That was going to rock her world a bit.

I turned back to the storage room area. Where were they? I needed to check on Monroe.

"Can I get you anything?" asked the bartender.

"Tequila sunrise," I idly said not moving my head away from the door.

"Uhh… I'm sorry, Miss, but it's not that kind of open bar. How about a nice chardonnay?"

"Sure. I'm all about sophistication tonight."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

As I finished my glass, Nick came out with Detective Swagger right next to him. They were absorbed in their own conversation and didn't glance at me. Sergeant Jokes-a-Lot and the other officers exited shortly after. Without looking too obvious, I crossed the gallery and entered the back room area.

"Monroe," I called out.

Monroe reemerged. "I thought they would never leave." He scooped me up in his arms, holding me tight. "Thank God you're okay."

"I'm all right now that you're here." I took in his embrace and relaxed.

"She aimed that crossbow at you again," he growled.

"I was more worried about her shooting you."

"One second more and I would've looked like a pin cushion. But you know you could've been killed!"

"She wasn't going to shoot me. If she was, she would've just done it."

Monroe looked down at me. "There you go again, assuming. Renée, what am I going to do with you?" Exasperation coated his words.

"How did you know to call Nick?" I asked back. His question was rhetorical.

"Well, when I couldn't find you, I let my nose figure things out," he began. "I noticed that curator you ran off to talk with wasn't around. I smelled Waschbar and Chanel No. 5 and I put two and two together. When I called Nick, he'd already figured out it was the curator, too, so I gave him the address here. Then all it took was to follow the scent, and… Well, you know the rest."

"I'm glad you called him. And I'm also glad you found us. While I don't think she would've shot me, she was definitely going to escape."

Monroe shook his head. "There was also a scent of your fear lingering in the air."

I flushed slightly. "Sure, I was scared. But, it doesn't mean I wasn't still convinced she wouldn't kill me."

"You know what they say about assuming, man."

"Do they say that it helps Grimms catch thieving Waschbars?"

"No, it makes you an ass," he smirked.

"At least I'm a smart one." I grinned up at him.

"Don't I know it," he snorted. "So, what was all that she was saying before they took her away? 'Don't sleep until you're guilty'?"

"Yeah, that… It's a song," I replied. "While it's still cryptic, I know what it's from. The next line is, 'There's others doing far worse than us, so be glad that you are free.'"

"And that means?"

"Not sure exactly. But it's a song by Prince."

* * *

A/N: Monroe tried to wear his undercover hat. LOL!

Whew! So Madame Dazzles was the culprit after all! But there are more cryptic clues she's leaving for Renée.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

We sat in the lobby of the precinct… again. This place was getting on my nerves.

"What am I going to say?" I twisted the remainder of my dress in my hands.

"I'm sure you'll think of something." Monroe reached for my hand, halting the further assault of my outfit.

My stomach was in knots as I came up with what to say while we waited. Confronting Madame Dazzles was easy, but explaining why I was holding her down… Well, that wasn't.

"Renée," Nick said as his head poked around the corner. I shook as I stood. Closing my eyes briefly, I begged the practiced calm to take hold, and then walked the corridor to Nick's desk.

"Okay, so we need to get some kind of statement from you." Nick gave a slow shake of his head. "I don't know how to write this up."

"Just write that I figured out it was Lydia Swift since I saw her at the museum."

"It's not that easy. How did you know it was her?"

"While I was at the gala tonight, I recognized her eyes. They were the same blue as the thief."

Nick crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair. "Okay, so how does that lead to you holding her down in a back room with your dress torn?"

I held my hand to my head. "When I recognized her, I confronted her about being the thief. She panicked and forced me to the back room. I tried to flee and that's when I saw you… so I cried out. She pulled me back and drew her crossbow… But I was able to knock it away and hold her down… in self-defense. That's what was happening when you guys came through."

"Yeah, maybe…" He rested his arms on top of the desk and slouched forward. "But it seems unlikely you were able to take her down like that."

"She wasn't exactly dressed to kill. Her heels and gown made it easier to knock her off balance, so…"

"Why the hell did she even have a crossbow at an art gala?"

I shrugged. "Why did she have a crossbow at all? I don't know, Nick. She had her things in that back room."

Nick was clickity-clacking on his keyboard, eyes forming dark clouds. "If I get this report done, it'll be a miracle. The captain is expecting this done right. Any mistakes now could cost us the investigation."

"You have her in custody, and obviously you have something more on her than what I told you." I tilted my head slightly. "So what did you find on her?"

"I looked into the donations from a different angle. It seems the same car was seen at all three locations. After locating a good camera shot from outside, the plates were registered to Lydia Swift."

"But the donations don't necessarily mean she was the thief, right?"

"No. While there's nothing illegal about donating money, there is something illegal about donating marked bills from a bank robbery from three years ago."

"Oh my! So the money…?"

"Yeah, when the food bank tried to deposit the cash, the serial numbers came up in the database. Whoever paid her for the last theft probably set her up. I did a background on her. Lydia Swift only goes back a few years, which leads me to believe it's not her real name."

"But that still doesn't link her to the theft."

"Well, she did that on her own tonight. We were coming to investigate the donation, but after the phone call from Monroe… Well, you'd already figured out more than I had… apparently. Finding the murder weapon tonight filled in the missing link in the chain."

"Right, the crossbow."

The murder weapon would surely link Madame Dazzles to the murders and the thefts. The memory of that thing pointed at my head a second time sent a shiver through me. Perhaps I _did_ assume too much.

"Once forensics matches it up with the arrow we found tonight, it should be enough to take to a jury. But that doesn't answer how _you_ knew it was Lydia Swift." His stormy eyes glared at me. "It was more than just her eye color, right?"

"There were a few things. Actually it was Monroe that helped me figure it out." I explained the watch lesson Monroe had given me. "So sure enough, Lydia wore her watch on her right hand. When I thought about it further, I recalled her filling out forms with her left hand. Lydia had also mentioned once before that she held these galas as her way to give back to the community. It fit the Robin Hood theme. And those blue eyes. I knew I'd seen them before. It also didn't hurt that she showed herself when I told her I'd seen her true colors at the museum." I gave him a smirk.

"Keep your voice down," he motioned with his hands.

"Sorry. So, do you have enough for your report?" I asked.

Nick shrugged. "I'll work something out."

Captain Debonair walked toward us, stopping at Nick's desk. "We're ready to begin with Miss Swift. Did you finish with Miss Davenport here?"

"Yes. I think we got what we needed." He stood up and so did I.

"Miss Davenport, it seems the force needs to thank you for helping us on this case."

"Just doing my civic duty," I croaked out a reply.

"Well, perhaps we'll be seeing more of you… since you're a friend of Nick's." He looked into my eyes like that statement meant more than he wanted to let on.

Nick seemed taken aback. "Captain, I…"

"If you'll please excuse us, we have some questioning to do." The captain said before Nick could finish his sentence. Those hazel green eyes regarded me with another twinkle, but it vanished almost as quickly. Thank goodness I hadn't had to give my statement in the CSI room with him again.

"Detective Burkhardt, if you need anything else, you have my number," I said in a professional tone.

Nick looked daggers through me like I'd just said that I would talk to him at the secret Grimm clubhouse. I couldn't help it if the captain was smart enough to see through the charade that we didn't know each other. It wasn't like he was aware of everything, like _why_ we knew each other.

Both men walked away and I headed back to Monroe. I let my breath out as I saw his face. Wonderful, chivalrous Monroe. What would I ever do without him?

"So, did you two figure out what to say?

"Yeah, I believe I've said enough."

* * *

A/N: So the captain has figured out Nick and Renée aren't strangers. But he's probably known for a while, huh?


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44**

Monroe and I were at my place, since the trailer was closer to my house than to his. Thankfully I was able to shower and change into something less destroyed. My poor dress, I would miss it. I opted for a long sleeve t-shirt and jeans, and I pinned back my hair. Monroe was stuck in his dress clothes. But his outfit still looked good on him.

Dinner was quick, easy, and very late. I wasn't really in the mood for food after tonight, but I had some three bean salad after Monroe stressed I needed to eat something. My wine glass was refilled more than my plate.

Nick finally called after I'd gone through the cable channels a few times. I put him on speaker.

"There you are," I said. "So, are you already at the trailer?"

"Yeah, I just arrived. But I'll be honest, I really don't want to stay here for long. It's been an exhausting night."

"We can just talk on the phone if you'd prefer. What I need to say doesn't really need the ancient texts or torture devices."

"Yeah, let's just do that." He must have really been tired because he didn't acknowledge my snide remark. "But first, that comment the captain said tonight about our, umm, friendship…" Nick paused. I'd been waiting for that bomb to drop.

"Nick, I'm sorry. I've tried to remain aloof when we've talked at the police station. I don't know how he figured out we were acquainted, let alone that we could actually be friends. He's not completely all-knowing if he thinks that."

Monroe elbowed me at that last statement. Okay, that was rude, even for me.

"Well, let's try to refrain from having to be in here again, okay?"

"Sounds great to me. I'm getting tired of police stations."

"So, what's the rest of the story? I'm all ears."

I told Nick about Madame Dazzles' cryptic tale, the thefts sending a message to Seven Houses, and her verbal version of a blue card with the Prince song lyrics.

"Whoa, did you say Seven Houses?" asked Monroe. I looked up at him.

"What does it mean?" Nick and I both said at once.

"Well, if it's what I think it is, it sounds like the Royal families."

"Royal families?" We both replied again. I really needed to yell jinx next time.

"Yeah, I mean, it's kind of a long, drawn out story, and I just know some it. But it's like, not here. It's old world. You'd find most of in the last century in Europe. It's not anything, umm, local, you know?

"Well, this Waschbar seemed to feel whatever she was doing here was letting them know they were aware of the Seven Houses' plans."

"Man, I don't know what to tell you. All I know is if it's hit here in Portland, then it's spread further than I'm aware of. And I'm sure I'm not the only Wesen that's oblivious."

I went back to Nick. "Did Lydia say anything about her ulterior motives when you questioned her tonight?"

"No, but we didn't have an opportunity at a one-on-one talk. Tomorrow I will, though. I still have four other women to question tomorrow. Her alibi was some art meeting with all of them, and they confirmed that they were all with her that day. Now we're bringing them back in to find out why they lied."

It must be her interchangeable bookends, no doubt. Perhaps they were actually her band of merry women instead.

"So, does this clear my friend Natalie White? We're sure she's not a Waschbar."

"Yeah, and that still makes no sense," Monroe cut in. "I know I smelled one that night."

"I think I know why," I replied with a grin. "Natalie had brought over a dress to show me that she'd picked up from Lydia's. I'm sure her scent was all over it, along with the last time she wore her Chanel No. 5. Your nose was working just fine. Actually that you could catch that kind of scent from just a dress, that's really impressive, honestly." I leaned over and kissed him on the nose.

He grinned back. "Hey, I told you. The nose knows."

"So, Nick, about Natalie… She's clear then, right?"

"I'd say yes." Nick cleared his throat. "But I'm really saying too much about this case," he added. "Can I talk with Monroe for a moment?"

"Yeah, he's still here."

"Umm, privately?"

"Sure." I tried not to sound too sarcastic. I passed the phone over to Monroe. As Monroe and Nick talked, I watched my recording of _Jeopardy_ on mute. The only downfall was that I couldn't hear the answers. Or was it the questions? I always got that backwards.

Midway through, I was doing fairly well, even without the sound. The next clue I shook my head at.

"A boondoggle," said Monroe and I turned toward him.

"What?"

"A boondoggle," he pointed to the TV. I paused it on the current clue.

**THIS WAS ONCE A BRAIDED CORD**  
**WORN BY BOY SCOUTS;**  
**IT'S NOW A WASTEFUL PROJECT**  
**THAT OFTEN INVOLVES GRAFT**

I looked back at Monroe, who gave me a knowing grin. Sexy, sexy brain. He held up his hand with a boy scout salute. Sexy, sexy… boy scout? Hmm… I grinned back, giving him a nod.

I was able to finish _Jeopardy_ by the time Nick finished with Monroe. He gave me back my phone.

"So, you're a Jeopardy fan, huh?"

"I record every episode."

"So do I."

"Oh, really?" I leaned into him. "No wonder you're so smart."

Monroe laughed. "I get most of them right. But, hey, I'm not perfect."

I turned my head up toward him. "So, when were you a boy scout?"

"When I was a boy," he smirked.

"Cute. Too bad you never grew up."

"Hey now. I'm as grown as you are."

"Touché," I replied with a grin. "How many merit badges did you earn, Mr. Boy Scout?"

"I received quite a few. I got my forestry one pretty easily," he grinned.

"I'll bet you did." I mirrored his grin. "So, you wanna stay here tonight?"

"Hmm… I wasn't prepared to stay. I thought we were going to the trailer and then back to my place."

"Oh." That's right. He didn't have a change of clothes. This arrangement was getting more difficult. Maybe he needed a drawer here. No. Too soon for that. I shook the thoughts out.

"But, I mean, I can stay... I'll just be in a suit for another day until I go home."

"There are worse things you could be dressed in," I grinned.

"I'm sure there could be. Besides, we both survived the slings and arrows of that Waschbar tonight. Well, technically more arrows than slings. I think we oughta stay close tonight, you know?"

"I like the idea of staying close." I moved toward him, kissing down his cheek toward his lips. "But what are you going to sleep in tonight? You can't sleep in the suit."

"I'll improvise."

"Works for me."

We moved toward the bedroom, as his dress clothes dropped to the floor.

"You know I earned a merit badge in knots pretty quickly, too," said Monroe with a sexy grin. "I still excel in that area." His grin turned a bit devilish and I had to bite my lip. "I could show you sometime."

"I wouldn't want you to show off all your skills so early on in a relationship," I mocked him.

"Too bad, it's pretty spectacular."

"I think I've been tied down enough this year."

"Not the way I do it."

If he only knew how tied up in knots he already had me.

* * *

A/N: Getting a bit ahead on the Seven Houses, but that's okay.

So the bookends were Madame Dazzles band of merry women.

And just for fun, if you didn't catch on to the names of the Bookends:  
Johnna Smallwood = Little John  
Frieda Tuckerman = Friar Tuck

Corny, I know. But I found it amusing.


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45**

The next day I thought about Prince lyrics. More puzzles I couldn't solve just yet. Perhaps Nick would get the solution once he had a chance to question Madame Dazzles on his own. I'd done my part, now it was time to let him do the rest. Still, I was curious why she'd chosen those lyrics. I'd listened to the song on my MP3 player a few times on lunch, but it still wasn't making sense. Madame Dazzles knew from Natalie that I had a talent for lyrics. It had to be why she'd said it. That part of the puzzle I understood. So this one was for me to solve.

After a long day at the office, video chats with Mom, phone chats with family, friends, and of course, Chloe, I was over at Monroe's, sitting on his couch wearing my bra, panties, and one dress shoe. Monroe was fully dressed except for the shoe and sock he'd lost a few minutes ago.

"You sure you wanna play this out?" Monroe chuckled as the TV went to a commercial. "I'll let you out of it if you wanna."

"No, I agreed to play strip Jeopardy and I'm in it to win it," I smirked up at him.

There was no way in hell I was going to win, but I wasn't about to give up. It'd sounded simple enough. If you got five questions right in a row, the other person lost a piece of clothing. I was wearing six items and Monroe had eight, so to make it even he'd promised to remove a sock with a shoe. We'd decided shoes could count as two items, hence the one that was still dangling on my foot.

The first round I'd managed to get three in a row, then Monroe came back and got five back-to-back. Off came my shoe. Then I got another one and Monroe scored five more. My blouse was off in an instant. I got five only because the contestants stuck with the category 'Lyrics of the Artist.' That one was a walk in the park. I lost my skirt to Monroe's stroke of luck getting a category called 'We're Cuckoo,' and I had to shake my head. He spouted out the clock related questions before Alex Trebek could even begin to read the answers.

"You're gonna look pretty good naked on my couch," Monroe taunted with a sly grin.

"Let's see what I can do in Double Jeopardy first," I protested, but I couldn't help but grin back.

The commercials ended and the second round began.

Alex announced the categories: Physics, Classical Music, Notable Names, Herbs and Spices, Movie Quotes, and finally The Course of True Love. I brightened at 'Classical Music,' but I'd have to be quick to beat Monroe on those. There was no doubt that he'd run the category on 'Herbs and Spices,' and I knew enough useless movie quotes to excel in that category. Still it wasn't looking good for me.

As the game continued, sure enough the contestants started down the row of 'Herbs and Spices.' Monroe was answering faster than I could think.

**ONE TYPE OF DISH IN WHICH**  
**FENUGREEK SEED IS USED IS**  
**THIS RELISH FROM INDIA**

"What is chutney?" Monroe said with a smug grin. How did he know this stuff? Even the contestants were stumped. So was I.

"The correct response is, 'What is chutney?'" said Alex almost as smugly when no one rang in. Alex Trebek cheated. He always had the answers in front of him. Monroe just had a sexy brain.

"That's number four," Monroe grinned with mischief dancing in his eyes. I shifted on the couch. Thank goodness I still had a shoe.

The contestant finished out the category.

**THIS EUROPEAN HERB CALLED**  
**ACONITUM LYCOCTONUM**

"What is wolfsbane?" I practically yelled out before Alex finished reading the question.

"Well, look at you," said Monroe as he paused the DVR. "Although, that clue is completely inaccurate." He pointed to the screen as I read the rest of the clue aloud.

**MAY BE HELPFUL DURING FULL MOONS**  
**OR USED WITH SILVER BULLETS**

I had to laugh. "By all means, Monroe, call up Jeopardy and explain the true use for wolfsbane."

"Hey, I'm just saying that it has nothing to do with the moon or, you know, warding off werewolves, which it was obviously implying there."

"I'm aware of its use," I smirked. "I read the books." Oh, those darn books. We still hadn't discussed our rendezvous in the woods since my history lesson on mating from Nick's Blutbad book.

"Yeah, umm, about those books..." Monroe began like he was reading my thoughts. "What do you remember from our talk in the car that night?" He tilted his head in my direction.

I awkwardly chuckled. "I plead the fifth of the bottle of tequila I drank from." The heat crept up my cheeks. Maybe it was best not to discuss it. "You wanna finish our game? I'm getting kinda chilly over here." I gestured at my underthings.

"Oh, dude, it's only gonna get colder," he chuckled as he hit play on the remote. Thank goodness he just let the matter slide. We could talk mating rituals later... much later.

'Movie Quotes' proved I had a talent for useless information, and I cleaned the category out as Monroe took off his other shoe and sock. He came back with three 'Physics' and two 'Notable Names,' and my other shoe dropped to the floor as I kicked it off.

Fortunately I was able to call out the next two 'Physics' questions faster than Monroe. (It also helped that the contestants were working backwards, so they were easier questions.) Then I beat Monroe by a nose on the first 'Classical Music' question. I was on a roll. The contestant went to two-thousand dollars for 'Notable Names.'

**A NATIONAL HERO AND SAINT,**  
**THIS ALEXANDER WAS GREAT**  
**WHEN HE HELPED UNITE RUSSIA**  
**IN THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY**

"Who is Alexander Pushkin?" Monroe said triumphantly.

"Oh, no. Who is Alexander Nevsky?" I quickly replied.

He crossed his arms with a knowing look. "No, it's Pushkin." We waited for the contestants to be stumped, and Alex read the question after the beeps.

"Who is Alexander Nevsky?"

I smiled with jubilation. "That's four." My smile shifted into a sly grin.

"Don't celebrate yet," Monroe quipped back.

The contestant went back to 'Classical Music.'

**THE TEMPO MARKING LENTO MEANS THIS**

"What is slowly?" I said very quickly as I flashed him another grin. "And with that I have five!"

Monroe pressed pause and with lento he unbuttoned his brown and tan plaid shirt while I hummed some stripper music.

"You just got lucky," he chided.

"If it makes you feel better, sure." My grin widened as he removed his shirt, leaving him in his white t-shirt.

We went back and forth on the rest of the 'Classical Music' category and Monroe picked up the last two questions in 'Notable Names.' The contestants had avoided the 'Course of True Love' category and it was all that remained.

**ALLITERATIVE CANINE TERM FOR A**  
**HIGH NOTE-LOWER NOTE COMBO**  
**SIGNIFYING MALE APPRECIATION**  
**FOR FEMALE BEAUTY**

"What is wolf whistle?" we said in unison, and then we both laughed.

"Okay, that was a tie," I said, "so it doesn't count."

Monroe paused the show. "Tie breaker to the one who can actually wolf whistle." He wiggled his eyebrows in my direction.

"Oh, so you want me to just give it to you… Is that what you're saying?" I chuckled. "Why don't we just break the tie with who can woge into a Blutbad instead?" I rolled my eyes slightly.

"Well, if you insist." Monroe had a woge for effect. His red eyes fixed on mine. God, I missed that wolf. He retracted then wolf whistled. "There, I did both."

I shook my head trying not to laugh. "Sure, sure. I'll give you the point," I smirked at him. "Show off."

"That's three." He gave me his trademark smile and pressed play.

**THE LYRICS OF THIS 1964**  
**BEATLES HIT PRECEDES,**  
**"AND YOU KNOW THAT CAN'T BE BAD"**

"She loves you," I said then looked at Monroe. Oh, how I got butterflies just by saying that. My heart wanted me to add, 'She does. She really, really does!' Instead I stammered out, "What is she loves you?" to correct myself. Okay, I was blushing for sure now. I laid my hand on my cheek and it was like a hot July day. I wasn't cold anymore. Monroe raised an eyebrow, but the next clue was up before he could say anything.

**FAMOUS FIRST FIVE WORDS**  
**OF "SONNET 43" IN**  
**_SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE_**

"How do I love thee?" Monroe grinned my way. I bit my lip. I couldn't help it. The butterflies were multiplying. That crazy 'L' word was being tossed around and boy did I enjoy it. I reached for the remote and paused the game.

"Shouldn't that be '_What is, _How do I love thee?'" I asked.

"No, dude," Monroe shook his head. "It's already in a question form."

"Ah, so it is," I answered. I knew that already, but I just wanted to say the phrase. My heart was getting a love buzz off this category. I pressed play on the remote.

**VIRGIL'S 'OMNIA VINCIT AMOR'**  
**IS TRANSLATED AS THIS**

"What is love conquers all?" Monroe's eyes were twinkling as I said the words. Maybe we would say it, maybe it was time. My tongue was already yearning to say it again.

**THESE FOUR WORDS COMPLETE THE LINE,**  
**"THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE..."**

"What is never did run smooth?" I said, partially deflated. And there it was. The harsh reality of it all. The crazy 'L' word retreated back to its little box that I kept under lock and key. I forced a smile at Monroe. Our love was as smooth as broken glass, especially in our abnormal situation.

"Well, umm, neither of us are naked," Monroe gave a sigh of disappointment and gestured at us both. "So, all or nothing on Final Jeopardy?"

"I see a win either way," I grinned. "Or we could just call it a draw and you can show me that tie breaker trick of yours upstairs." I leaned into him. "Or outside," I added. I missed Mr. Wolf.

"Yeah, about that." Monroe took a breath in as he leaned back on the couch. I rested my head in his lap while his brown eyes widened and gave me a serious look. "You know, I've been going to meet with the guys at Helvetia, right?"

I nodded.

"Well, I mean, they know I'm dating a human and I _kinda_, umm, mentioned our runs in the woods." His voice pitched high on the word 'kinda' and I knew what that meant; he did more than mention our private encounters. Yikes!

I kept my face smooth and nodded again.

"So, yeah, well they suggested, and I mean I can see their point, that maybe I oughta back off from doing that sorta thing, since the lack of control can negatively impact what I'm trying to accomplish here, man."

"Oh," I said, trying to keep my face from showing my disappointment. "No, I think they're right."

"It's not that I don't want to. 'Cause I really, really want to..."

"I don't want you feeling out of control," I replied then pursed my lips.

"And the, umm, Mr. Wolf thing. We gotta stop that, too."

"Well, that's just a role-playing thing really."

"Yeah, but I got work on my id. You know, Freud said that your id contains your basic, instinctual drives." Monroe's eyes widened. "And, man, you know anything that involves instincts I need to keep to, like, a bare minimum. So let's just call me what I am. Blutbad. Or even better, just Monroe."

I nodded. "Okay. I can do that."

"Good, okay then. Glad that's out there," he said. "But there are still other things we can do." He wiggled his eyebrows. Ready for another_ Jeopardy_ clue?

"Sure," I smiled up at him.

"Here's one for you: Room in which you're most likely to get the best sex of your life."

"Hmm…" I put my finger to my lips teasingly in deep thought. "What is the bedroom?"

"Damn, you're good at this game."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Nick called right as I was about to get my Daily Double.

"She's gone?" I exclaimed as Nick told me that Madame Dazzles had pulled a disappearing act. I turned the phone on speaker.

Nick let out an exaggerated sigh. "Yeah, she escaped last night. We tried going through video from the holding cells, but somehow she was able to cut the feed."

"They're Waschbars," said Monroe. "What do you expect, man? They're sneaky. It's what they're known for."

"So, if she's gone, then I guess there's no way to recover everything she stole?"

"We're still holding her associates at the station," Nick explained. "They covered for her, and we know that one of them is linked to driving the van that was spotted at the Japanese art theft. The others must be involved, too. Johnna Smallwood is the one that will be easiest to break. She's terrified of me."

So all the Bookends were involved. Wow.

"Oh man. Guess I'm not getting that reward now," Monroe groaned.

"Reward?" Nick asked.

"Yeah. The museum was giving a reward for the recovery of _La Bella_."

"I don't think you qualified for that anyway," Nick replied.

"What? Hey, man. I called it in. You came and arrested her. That should count for something."

"Well, now she's gone, so it doesn't really matter," Nick reasoned.

"Could've bought something nice with that money," Monroe grumbled.

"Nick, am I safe?" I asked, directing the conversation back to the matter at hand.

"I don't know," Nick replied warily. "I don't think she'd be dumb enough to stick around Portland and risk getting caught again. But I thought you should know just in case."

Crap, Lydia had my address. I shuddered. Monroe didn't need to know that. He'd have me living over here until he felt the coast was clear. Maybe Madame Dazzles was off the radar in another city by now. Maybe she and the Lowen were enjoying the beach in Florida together, drinking margaritas, and swapping stories. Either way, hopefully she'd stay far away from here and far away from me.

Monroe patted me on the arm. "It might be better if she stays gone. No offense, Nick. Reward or not, I'm just done with people aiming sharp, pointy things at us."

I let out a sigh. Another Wesen was out there who knew about me. I needed to start keeping a list.

"So, I guess you never got a chance to question her then."

"No," he grumbled. "I really wish I had. The mayor and the DA are going to have our asses for this."

"Well, maybe Lydia's associates will be of use."

"That's all we have left," Nick replied. "Oh, and Lydia's real name is Ricki Toney, just in case she tries to locate you. We were able to link her prints to a foster care database. That info you gave me about her being in an orphanage really helped. We would've never looked into those kinds of records otherwise."

"Well, I'm glad I was helpful," I said with a small smile.

"Renée, you did quite a bit. So, thanks."

"You're welcome, Nick."

I smiled a bit bigger as I hung up the phone. Monroe propped his head up on his elbow as I leaned into him on the bed.

"False identities, escape artists… I tell ya, those Waschbars really like to show off."

"Swift as an arrow," I chuckled aloud at the idiom. "Maybe that's why she chose the last name Swift."

"That or maybe she's just nuts and needed a fake name."

"Don't talk to me about names, 'Just Monroe.'" I turned and gave him a knowing grin.

"Hey, if Madonna can go by a single name, so can I."

I winked at him. "Right."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

The next night the big news story around town was the recovery of _La Bella_. While Nick hadn't bothered to call Monroe or me, the newscaster shared the story of the Portland detective, who had followed a hunch and was able to bring _La Bella_ back to the museum, which was now heavily guarded around the clock until it was scheduled to be shipped back to Florence, Italy in mid April. The newscaster didn't mention anything else being found, or Madame Dazzles for that matter. I shook my head. I wasn't about to call Nick and ask. More than likely I'd get some vague response that he couldn't talk about it. Regardless, I pulled out my cell and texted him.

**Congrats.**

I received a reply a few moments later.

**Thx.**

Yeah, I figured that would be about all I'd get.

The rest of the night I tried to focus on work, Monroe, and anything else that didn't involve crazy Wesen and Nick Burkhardt. I just needed a normal day.

* * *

A/N: Monroe can even make _Jeopardy_ sexy. LOL!

So, Madame Dazzles escaped. But at least _La Bella_ was recovered, so the scene in 'Love Sick' can still occur. (:

Hoped you liked my little Robin Hood tale. Comment if you liked it! I don't see it being over just yet though.

Stay Tuned for more chapters soon... We're about half way done with this story. Needless to say, I'm not going to reach my goal and have it posted before Grimm starts back up, but that's fine.

Thanks for reading!


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46**

"I have some good news!" Chloe said through the phone as I curled my legs under me on the couch. It was finally Friday and I had a real weekend ahead of me. Thank God. I deserved a break.

"Good news? I could use some of that." Perhaps Harvey had finally shown Chloe he was anatomically correct.

"So, I've been researching like crazy on your dad and I think I've found something."

"Found something?" I sat up straight on the couch. "What is it, Chloe?"

"Well, I got a call back about your dad's volunteer work in California," she said. "He was working in a place called Crescent City in California. Ever heard of it?"

I went through the maps in my mind, the file cabinet drawers of my brain clattering about.

"It's on the coastline I think. Not far from the Redwood Forest area maybe? Let me grab my laptop."

I Google'd the city, and sure enough, my memory served me well. It was a small area, surrounded by quite a few parks and reserves on the coast in California. Directions from Portland estimated it was six hours away.

"From what I can gather, he grew up near there. One of the guys I talked to had remembered your dad, and he recalled him going camping in the forests as a kid or something. Anyway, here's the ironic thing. Your grandma on your mom's side still lives there."

"No, that can't be. My mom said my grandparents are all dead."

"Well, I had to go through a few slightly illegal databases, but I found your grandma had changed her name sometime back in the '80s. When the same city came up as where I found your dad to hail from, it seemed like a real match."

I had a living grandmother? Oh, this was shocking. My heart jumped up in my chest as my stomach clenched.

"Any contact phone numbers or anything to reach her?"

"No, your grandma has worked hard to keep herself hidden."

"How long as she lived there?"

"Girl, I'm good at research, but I haven't found a way to tap into those kinds of databases… _yet_." Her smirk came through from the other side of the phone.

"But you have an address, right?"

"Well, no," she paused. "I have… coordinates."

"Coordinates?"

"Yeah, it's a remote area in the woods."

She read it off to me as I typed it in Google. It led to an area in the middle of a forest just outside of Crescent City. Were there even roads to drive in there? I zoomed in enough to make out what looked like a road… or perhaps it was a gravel path? Either way, it wasn't easily accessible.

"Six hours away," I repeated.

"I see a road trip in your future, huh?"

"Yeah, looks like it." She didn't need a direct link to my brain to figure that one out. "Chloe you are beyond amazing."

"Hey, I just do what I can. You have to let me know what you find out from her."

"Of course. Maybe she has some of my grandfather's Grimm history," I commented. "But just to be able to know about my mom and dad. Oh, wow…" I let out a breath as I smiled.

Chloe and I talked more about life, work, and romance, or as Chloe liked to put it, her lack thereof with Harvey, before we said our goodbyes.

I immediately called Monroe.

"What are you doing tomorrow morning?" I asked. I wasn't about to wait.

"Aside from Pilates and a drop off of an anniversary clock to a client, nothing," he replied with a suspicious tone. "What did you have in mind?"

"Wanna take a road trip to my grandma's house with me?"

"Is this a bad joke?" Monroe asked.

I laughed, "No joke. But it is over the river and through the woods." I told him what Chloe had found on my biological parents.

"Wow this is kinda short notice, but I suppose, I could go," he said. "But only if we can bring her a picnic basket. 'Cause you don't get this kinda irony often enough."

"Only you would say something like that," I chuckled. Oh, you silly wolf.

"So, is this the Grimm-side grandma or the human-side grandma?" Monroe asked.

"The Grimm-side."

"Hmm… I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"My grandpa was the Grimm, not my grandma," I reasoned.

"Even so, she may know the truth. Might be why she's in hiding."

"I guess I can see if Nick is free."

"No, I wanna go," Monroe replied quickly. "I just hope she's not well-versed in the family business, if you know what I mean."

"It might be a good idea if Nick comes with us, anyway, since it's Grimm related. Maybe she has my grandfather's books, or journals, or…"

"A trailer?"

I chuckled. "Maybe that, too."

"Yeah. Call and see if Nick is free."

Monroe and I settled on leaving around noon so he could deliver his clock. Too bad we couldn't leave in the morning. The more daylight the better, in my opinion. Regardless, I was excited and nervous at the same time. I was going to meet a blood relative. A pit formed in the bottom of my stomach as the nerves won out.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

"Burkhardt," Nick said into the phone.

"Do you work on Saturdays?" I asked.

"I'm always working," he replied. "Why?"

"Would you be able to get off work to go on a Grimm adventure?"

There was a moment of silence. "Let me call you back."

I sighed as he hung up. He must have been at his desk. I waited a few moments until Dire Straits played on my phone.

"Okay, so what do you mean by a Grimm adventure exactly?"

I told him the details. "So, would you be able to leave with short notice?"

"Renée, this job isn't like yours where I can just call in a vacation day," he replied. "But I really think I should go with you two." The gears were turning in his little head, I just knew it. He was conflicted.

"Well, we're leaving around noon tomorrow to give Monroe time to make a delivery, and then we'll probably just stay the night at a hotel, and be back before dark on Sunday."

"So, you're talking thirty-six hours, give or take?"

"Yeah. Give or take." Most people would just say a day and a half.

"I'll talk it over with Hank. But if I go, and I mean _if_… I'm keeping my cell on. If anything comes though, we have to leave. No questions asked."

"You really don't have to go if it's going to be a problem," I said. Working off Nick's schedule? No, thank you.

"Maybe if we try to go in a few weeks…"

"No, I'm not waiting to go."

"Why not?"

"I just found out I have a living blood relative, Nick. If you just found out that a relative who might know about this 'other world' was actually alive when you thought they were dead, wouldn't you want to see them as soon as possible?"

Nick was silent a moment. "Let me just talk to Hank. I'll call you back."

I shook my head. Why did I suggest Nick come along? Oh, this wasn't going to be good.

A few hours later Nick called again.

"I have clearance to leave for forty-eight hours, but if there is a homicide, I've got to return. So, if I get a call, I have to go back to Portland."

"Just homicides?" I asked.

"Yeah. Hank says that he can take care of the rest, and I told him it would probably be less time than I was estimating."

"And they're aware if they make the call, it's going to take you at least six hours to return?"

"Yes, Renée," he scowled slightly. "I gave them the details."

"What did you tell them you were going to be doing, exactly?"

"Well, I may have mentioned it was a relative close to me and my Aunt Marie, and that this relative might not make it. I may have played the sympathy card since they know it hasn't been all that long since my aunt died."

"Wow, you went through all that just to come along?" That was kind of a surprise.

"I told you I don't want you two going alone, so it had to be something convincing. Even the captain patted my shoulder after I told him. He wished my relative well and told me to be safe on the road."

"Lying to the police captain. That's good." I held back my smirk.

"It's not a lie exactly. Your grandma would be a relation to me by marriage. Even if it was many branches apart."

"Sure, because that's not stretching the truth at all." I laughed this time. "So what tall tale will you give Juliette?"

"I'll figure something out. I'll pick you guys up around eleven-thirty so we can be on the road by noon."

"Umm, I'm driving."

"Well, what if I get a call?"

"Then I'll drive you back to Portland."

"No. That won't work," Nick said adamantly.

"Were you going to drive a cop car, so you could turn the lights on?"

"No. I was going to drive the Toyota."

"Okay, then. How about I drive, and if you get a call, then you can drive my car back to Portland. Is that all right?"

Nick was silently mulling it over. He couldn't refute my offer. There was no way I was going to let him drive, but he didn't need to know that.

"Fine, you drive. But, Renée, I swear if I get a call, then you're handing over the keys, so we can get back as soon as possible."

"Fair enough. I'll pick you up at eleven-thirty. Make sure you pack tonight, it makes it easier when you pack the night before."

Hopefully the citizens of Portland could refrain from killing one another for the next two days.

* * *

A/N: Monroe, Nick and Renée are going on a road trip. That should be fun, right? LOL!

Okay so I'm going out of my comfort zone again, with these next ten chapters. Stay with me on the twists and turns, and I'd love to hear your comments as we go along.

Posting the first five chapters now and the other five tonight. Enjoy!


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47**

"Yeah, Nick. We should be there in…" Monroe paused and nudged me as I turned my car onto Northeast Prescott Street.

"His house is just four blocks away," I said.

"We're four blocks away," Monroe repeated. "So, we'll be there soon."

I glanced over in Monroe's direction once he ended the call. "Don't you know where he lives?"

"I, umm, I've never been to his house before. I mean, except that one night when we followed him with Juliette's car, but I wasn't really, you know, paying attention to the turns."

"He's your best friend, and he's never had you over?"

"Umm, we're not _that_ kind of friends… apparently," he mumbled, adjusting his seat belt.

"Well, I've never been invited, either," I said with a small grin as I braked at the red light. "I just like to burst in, unannounced."

"Hey, at least you've been inside. I'm just the guy he sneaks off to go see." Monroe paused. "Okay, that didn't sound the way I meant it."

"Sure, sure." I turned and gave him a smirk. "You're just the piece Nick keeps on the side."

"Dude, don't even go there." Monroe sharply elbowed me. "We're definitely not _that_ kind of friends."

I openly laughed as the light turned green, and I drove forward. "Well, there's the place he keeps secret from you, so his girlfriend never finds out about you two sneaking off together in the night." I pointed to the large, Victorian house on the corner up ahead.

"You know, we go out in the daytime, too."

I smirked again, pulling in front of the house. "Right, because that makes it so much better."

Nick was perched by the front door with a wisp of red hair poking out behind him. He turned to Juliette, gave her a quick kiss, and then walked out, briskly shutting the door before she could follow him out. He walked down the porch steps with his hands full. What the heck was he carrying? Was that a… fishing pole? Once Nick was closer, I confirmed my guess. He had a tackle box in his other hand along with a backpack and a sleeping bag on his shoulders.

I rolled down the window. "Are we catching our lunch, or do you just always come prepared?"

"Keep it down," Nick hissed like he expected Juliette to pop out of the bushes. "I said we were going camping and fishing, so just open the trunk."

"Sure." I pushed the trunk button and Nick tossed in his gear.

I waited to speak again until I had my window up and Nick was settled in the back seat. "So, that was your lame excuse? Camping and fishing?"

"It was the only logical thing I could say that would require me to be out overnight."

"He does have a point," added Monroe, "although, if you really wanted to pull it off, you should've worn your fishing vest. Anyone who goes fishing wears the vest."

I turned to Monroe. "You told me you aren't good at fishing."

"I might not be good at it, but I know what you should wear."

"I don't have a vest," Nick chimed in.

"Dude, then where do you put the…?"

"I just don't have one, Monroe," he snapped back.

"Okay, man." Monroe shook his head. "But you must not be all that great at fishing either if you don't own a vest."

"So, Juliette bought that you just had an impromptu camping trip just spring up out of nowhere?" I asked.

"Well, she did ask about that," Nick replied. "I told her I'd forgotten all about it, but it had been planned a few weeks ago. That she bought, since I'd forgotten about a fishing trip once before a couple of years ago."

"Do you need to make up any stories for anyone else?" I asked.

"No, I've talked to everyone who needs to know."

"Good, then let's get going."

"Nice house, by the way," said Monroe as I pulled out of Nick's driveway. "Since this is the first time I'm actually getting to see it in the daylight and all."

Nick scoffed. "Right, because I should just invite you over for a football game sometime."

"That might be nice. That is if you even knew what team I like to watch."

"I know." I raised my hand. "Can I answer?"

Monroe reached for my hand, pulling it down. "Of course you know. You actually _care_ about my interests." He turned back toward Nick. "And I like soccer more than football. Okay, well, sometimes, depending on the season."

"Next time you have me over for dinner, I'll be sure to have a questionnaire ready to learn all your favorites, Monroe," Nick sarcastically offered.

Monroe sighed. "You don't have to be rude about it."

"I can scratch favorite color off the list," Nick replied. "That one was already covered."

"I know that one, too," I said while grinning wider than I'd meant to.

Monroe squeezed my thigh. "Yes, you do." He turned back to Nick again. "But, you know, if _someone_ cared enough to ask me about something other than Wesen all the time, then maybe that _someone _would know more than just that one little tidbit about me, you know?"

I shook my head and changed my MP3 player to 'Born to be Wild,' turning up the volume to end their banter.

"_Get your motor runnin'.  
Head out on the highway.  
Lookin' for adventure,  
And whatever comes our way…"_

I sang along to the intro as I took the ramp to the Freemont Bridge.

Monroe gave me a look, and I turned the volume down slightly.

"What?"

"Born to be Wild?"

"Not every song has an underlying meaning about you." I gave him a wink.

"Umm, are we going to listen to music the whole drive?" Nick asked reluctantly. I caught Monroe already giving Nick a nod and a slight eye roll.

"I like music, so probably for most of it," I replied in an even tone. "Is that a problem?"

"I was hoping we could discuss some things along the drive."

"Wesen, no doubt," Monroe muttered.

"We have six hours," I said, "so I'm sure we'll find time to talk in between."

"Can I at least have a say in the song choice?" Nick asked.

I smiled at him through my rearview mirror. "Driver picks the music, but if you're good I'll take requests."

"I have a request," said Nick. "How about 'The Sound of Silence'?"

"Hmm, I didn't take you for a Simon and Garfunkel fan, Nick," I curtly replied.

"I'm not."

"Okay." I turned down the music. "So let's talk. Wanna fill us in about _La Bella_'s recovery yesterday? I'm all ears."

"Yeah, man," said Monroe. "So, what happened with that one?"

Nick's reflection shifted uncomfortably. "I can't talk about cases, Renée. You know that."

"Oh, come on, Nick," I groaned. "I'm a little invested in this one."

Nick gave vague details of locating a warehouse after Johnna Smallwood had confessed that she and the other Bookends were all Waschbars and had assisted Lydia in all three heists. The masterminds behind the operation were nowhere to be found, and the stolen items had vanished, except for _La Bella_. So someone still had the Japanese artifacts and Captain Debonair's painting. At least Italy wouldn't hate Portland anymore. Japan was probably still pissed.

"I still don't understand the lyrics Lydia told me."

Nick shrugged in my rearview. "If she wanted us to know something, then she should've just told us."

I shook my head. "I think she's afraid, and it has something to do with law enforcement."

"We may never know," Nick replied.

"Well, if it has to do with Royal families, then being in the dark might be a good thing," Monroe commented.

I didn't like being in the dark about anything. Shaking my head again, I turned the volume of my stereo back up.

"Back to music already?" Nick moaned.

"It gets my motor running," I grinned.

Monroe angled his head to look back at Nick. "Dude, I'll haggle us out a reprieve, so we don't go crazy." He turned his head toward me and gave me a wink.

I attempted to scowl, but his eyes flashed red as he raised his eyebrows, and I bit my lip instead. Yeah, he had ways he could haggle. He could get my motor running better than music.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

"You know, I-5 is the only interstate that runs from Canada to Mexico… or Mexico to Canada, you know, depending on which way you wanna look at it," Monroe said as we drove along toward Salem.

"No, wasn't aware of that one either, Monroe," said Nick as he crossed his arms. Monroe had been recounting facts throughout the drive. Between my music and Monroe's trivia, Nick looked like he was rethinking coming with us.

I simply smiled. "What can you tell us about Salem?"

"Oh, there's some interesting history about…"

"Hey, can we make a pit stop somewhere," Nick interjected. "Just a gas station is fine. I need more than homemade trail mix on this trip." He leaned in between the front seats. "No offense," he added. "'Cause this stuff is delicious." He forced a smile, holding up the bag.

I really hated stopping, but I relented. Monroe and I sat and waited while the Grimm went into the Stop N' Go in Woodburn. After fifteen minutes, we decided to go in and find out what was taking him so long. Inside, Nick was moving through the aisles with his arms loaded with snack food. I took the opportunity to briefly freshen up and then went back out to the Malibu, grabbing a few bottles of water from the cooler in the trunk. Nick didn't know the meaning of stop and go. This was taking forever. We were stopping longer than we were going.

Monroe came back out shortly after and settled back in the car. "I have a suspicion he's going to want to make more pit stops," he said while adjusting the visor.

"It's fine." I gritted my teeth and smiled, passing Monroe a cold bottle. "We left before noon for a reason, but it's fine."

Nick finally returned with a brown paper bag full of who knew what. "Okay, I should be good for a while," he said as he closed the car door. I didn't believe that for a minute.

Turning on my MP3 player, I hummed along with Joan Jett's 'Roadrunner' while merging back on the interstate. Wrappers of road trip food were ripped behind me.

Monroe's nose twitched, and he made a sour face. "Pork rinds? Really? That's just brutal, man. There's like dozens of other snacks you could've picked."

"I like pork rinds," Nick replied between crunches. "I didn't think it would bother you."

"Yeah, well, you could've asked." Monroe scoffed, folding his arms tightly.

I gingerly rubbed his arm, rolling down the window a crack as the Grimm munched in my back seat. Hopefully fanning out the smell would help.

"I got you some peanut M&M's." Nick held the bag out toward Monroe, shaking it slightly as it rattled in his hand.

"Thanks, I suppose," he muttered and took the bag. A small grin formed on his lips at the gesture.

I laughed. "You two sound like an old, married couple."

"Oh man, that's not even funny," Monroe practically barked as he turned to me.

"If you and I sound half as cute, then I think we might have something great."

Monroe shook his head. "Dude, you're just not right."

"What's wrong, Monroe?" Nick chimed in from the back seat. "Am I not good enough for ya?"

Monroe glared back at Nick. "Now don't you even start."

"I won't compete with Renée, though." Nick grinned as I watched him from my rearview. "Besides, I prefer redheads."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Four more stops and three hours later, we'd only made it to Eugene, which we should've passed an hour ago. My organized mind was in a frenzy with being off schedule like this. I had to make up for lost time. My speed crept up as I chose 'Life in the Fast Lane' from my playlist.

"How fast are you going?" Nick asked with a serious tone.

"Uh, I'm keeping up with traffic," was my reply. I was already watching behind me for cops, so I didn't need the one in my back seat calling me out on my lead foot.

"It's seventy miles per hour on the interstate," Nick informed me. I was doing over eighty.

"Sorry, officer," I said with a hint of sarcasm, switching the song to Judas Priest's 'Breakin' the Law' in defiance.

"Nick's right. You oughta slow down, Hun," Monroe advised as he looked up from his book. "Getting pulled over won't get us there any faster."

"Just playing some catch-up," I reasoned, letting off the gas slightly.

Monroe patted my hand. He knew my schedule was off. "We'll get there, and it'll be okay," he assured me.

"Slowly but surely," I replied, changing the music to Foghat's 'Slow Ride,' since that's how it seemed the rest of the journey was going to be. As I looked in my rearview, Nick was mouthing the song lyrics with a toothy grin. I held back a scowl.

* * *

A/N: Just a bit of road trip fun. More to come!


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

We were making better time after we had passed Roseburg, and I was feeling more at ease. My only frustration was that I had to keep turning my music down so Nick could take advantage of the situation and ask Wesen questions.

"Yes, they have a third eye," Monroe's voice mounted with exasperation as he answered another question. "It comes out right in the center of their foreheads. Kinda like a triclops. Corrective lens must be a pain to get, come to think of it."

"Is it usable only when they woge? How do they see with it when...?"

"Dude," Monroe interrupted Nick's incessant questions. "How should I know how they see? Do I look like an ophthalmologist to you? Maybe you need to go find yourself one and, you know, ask them."

"I don't think you want to run into one though," I chuckled. "They'll try to take your head off if you're close enough." I grinned at Nick through my rearview. "Maybe Monroe's right… You ought to go hunt one down."

Nick's reflection glared back at me with stormy gray eyes. "Are you trying to get me killed?"

"Actually Monroe suggested you find one, so..."

"Hey, I only meant that, you know, I'm not privy to all the ins and outs of Wesen optics, man." Monroe defended himself. "I mean, I can't explain some of the things I can do, you know, let alone what everyone else is doing out there."

"I know what _you_ meant, Monroe," Nick said. Those eyes of Nick's were still watching me in my rearview. He knew what I meant, too.

I was beginning to enjoy turning Nick's eyes gray. He brought out a mean streak in me something awful. I toned down my grin so as not to appear too evil. Nick went back to questioning Monroe while I focused on the road. I softly hummed to myself while trying to tune them out.

The further we drove the prettier the sky was looking. Oh, what I wouldn't give to see the sunshine! The mere thought brightened my mood. California was known for sunshine. Surely it would be nicer there. I envisioned a giant rain cloud over Portland like the one that used to follow Charlie Brown in the comic strip. Maybe Portland was cursed.

A half-dozen Wesen discussions later, we'd made it to Grants Pass. The mile marker signs were edging us closer to California. This would be my first time going there, and after everything that had happened in Portland recently, I was thrilled to leave for a while. I'd always enjoyed a good road trip. This one was definitely the strangest one I'd had company-wise, but I was accentuating the positive and eliminating the... Ahh, so that was the song I was humming earlier. I hummed it again more consciously.

"Hey, do you think we could make a stop?" Nick asked, bursting my happiness bubble. We'd stopped less than an hour ago. It wasn't even worth the effort to grumble anymore. "Maybe a restaurant? I'm getting tired of truck stops."

It had been a while since I'd eaten. Lunch actually sounded good. Nick's request wasn't unreasonable this time.

"Dude, my stomach is on E." Monroe mimed a fuel gauge meter with his index finger, moving from full to empty. "I could go for a stop, too."

A few obscure food choices came up on my GPS. The closest one was The Black Bear Diner on Northwest 6th Street. My GPS called out the exit in her robotic voice, and I turned my Malibu to follow.

I was hoping for a Route 66-esque metal diner, but this was nothing like that at all. The restaurant itself had a down-home look. Inside was a whole other story. It was like if Yogi Bear owned a Denny's. Bears of all kinds were displayed on the walls, on the menus, and even on the food.

The waitress seated us and Monroe made a face at the menu.

"You know, I'm not finding much of the vegetarian friendly fare on here." He frowned. "This place is a bit un_bear_able."

"Don't go _bear_-zerk or anything." I flashed him a grin. "What about the Summer Harvest salad?" I pointed at the description. "Look, it says 'You'll _bearly_ be able to contain yourself.'" I laughed.

Nick rolled his eyes slightly, but didn't say anything.

I looked up from my menu. "Oh, come on, Nick. It's your turn."

"I find you both a bit em-_bear_-assing," he replied with a toothy grin.

"See, now that wasn't so hard."

Nick's grin faded as he looked past me. His eyes widened and his mouth slacked a bit. I gave a sideways glace to Monroe. He gave me a return look and a sigh. Oh, this must be the infamous Wesen face. I didn't turn around. Instead, I pulled my cell and texted Nick.

**Can U pls stop gawking? What kind?**

Nick's cell beeped, startling him. He looked down and then gave me a scowl. He typed on his phone. Mine beeped.

**I don't know what it is.**

I sighed and returned the text.

**Can U describe?**

Nick read and then texted back.

**It has a lot of spikes… like a porcupine ?**

I texted back.

**Probably a Stangebär. They're harmless unless you agitate one.**

Monroe was leaning over, and I showed him Nick's text. He nodded at Nick, who was back to staring.

I cleared my throat loudly. "So, what are you ordering?" I asked Nick.

He looked back to me. "Not sure yet."

"Well, why don't you focus on that instead of the patrons," I said through gritted teeth.

Just then our waitress came by with the same question. Monroe was still scouring for something within his diet, so she took my order. I decided on the Summer Harvest salad. Nick went for a Big Bear burger deluxe.

"So, what can I get you?" the waitress asked Monroe.

He sighed, replying, "I guess the Summer Harvest salad, too."

"Can we also get two sides of avocado?" I asked.

"Sure, we can add that," the waitress replied with a pleasant smile and walked off.

"Good idea on the avocado," Monroe said. "That will at least add some protein." He looked over at Nick. "Dude, you gotta stop."

I turned to Nick, who was staring again. "They have a right to eat in peace," I added.

"Sorry, it's just new to me."

"There will be plenty of time to look them up and learn all about them when you get back to the trailer."

Nick's eyes widened again. Great, did he spot another Wesen? A man hurried by us and Nick's eyes followed.

"What did you do?" Monroe asked in a whisper. "You ran him off?"

"I didn't do anything," Nick shot back.

A shriek behind us halted our questions.

"Someone stop him!" a woman yelled. "He just robbed us!"

Nick was up in an instant. I looked to the window. The man that had passed by us was getting into a car outside. My car. Holy Crap! I reached for my keys and pressed the alarm button. The sound blared loudly, shocking Mr. Pinhead before he could get very far. He had a woge as he shifted in a panic, holding his ears and jumping out of my car. He paused just enough for Nick to grab him around the chest and wrestle him to the ground. Monroe and I ran to the door.

"Oh, my God, Nick," I called out. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," he groaned as Mr. Pinhead struggled against his grip. "Just make sure someone has called the authorities."

I ducked back in, and the waitress assured me they had called 911. Nick kept the guy held down until the police came.

"Your lunches are on the house," the waitress told us. "Thank you so much!" she gushed at Nick and walked off.

Nick held his hands. The wait staff had scrambled to find some gauze. They thought he'd cut himself on the gravel, but the pin holes in both hands were clearly not anything gravel could have produced. I'd seen the quills of a Stangebär, but couldn't fathom the pain they would cause.

"Man, what you did back there… That was pretty intense." Monroe gave him an approving nod.

Nick shrugged. "That's what I'm trained to do."

"Are you going to be okay?" I asked Nick, pointing at the bandages.

He looked up, eyes blue and bright. "Yeah, this? It's nothing really. Good call on the car alarm though. The officer I talked to said this guy had been on their radar for a while. He'd robbed a couple of other restaurants and had hotwired a getaway car each time. A few moments longer and he would've been on the road before I could've done anything."

"I just reacted, you did the hard part."

His goofy, toothy grin emerged. "It was a… team effort."

Monroe put his arm around me. "This kind of you-know-what work is much safer for you."

Sure, easy for him to say. My recklessness was still sulking in the corner. The Grimm had done the hard part. I, on the other hand, had pushed a button. Whoopie-woo. Perhaps Nick was right, maybe that one action helped capture Mr. Pinhead. Still, standing on the sidelines wasn't my favorite place to be.

We ate quickly, mostly in silence. My cell rang, and I reached in my pocket. It was my mom. Crap, the one thing I'd forgotten. I was slipping.

"Hi, Sweetie. I didn't see you on the computer. I wanted to show you this new blouse I bought when I was out with Chloe today."

"Sorry, Mom. I'm not near the computer. I'm out of town actually."

"Out of town? Oh. Where?"

"Umm, we're headed to a park in California," I replied coolly.

"California, really? What are you doing all the way down there?"

"Uhh… camping?"

Nick's smug grin emerged as he laughed quietly. The heat crept up my cheeks. Yeah, I'd used his lame excuse. I shook my head at letting the Grimm get a laugh at my expense. I made small talk with mom and told her I would call her again on Monday since I probably wouldn't have cell reception in the woods.

"Be safe out there and watch out for wolves," Mom warned. "I've heard they're plentiful in California."

I glanced over at Monroe, who didn't seem to be eavesdropping. "There are a few in Oregon, too," I said while biting back my grin.

As I hung up the phone, the waitress returned with a slice of chocolate cake and set it in front of Nick. On the edge of the plate held a folded piece of paper. She grinned at Nick and walked off.

Nick lifted up the paper and smirked at the contents. "Apparently if I'm ever back in Grants Pass, I can get a date." he chuckled as he held up a phone number and a heart drawn over the 'i' in the name Cindy.

Monroe just shook his head. "Save the day, get the girl. All in a day's work, huh?"

"Not interested in the girl. But this cake… Now that's worth saving the day." He took a large, exaggerated bite and smirked.

Once lunch was over, I surveyed my car. The seat had a few holes. I scowled. That was going to be fun to repair. Some of the wires were sticking out from where Mr. Pinhead had tried to steal my car. Fortunately my Malibu was still drivable.

As we buckled up, Nick asked, "Do they have quills all over their body?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Monroe replied. "You're lucky he was distracted or he might have tried to shoot you with those quills of his. That's gives the right to bear arms a whole new meaning."

Nick groaned. "Oh, we're not back to the bear puns are we?"

"No, that one doesn't really work, given the context." Monroe lifted his eyebrows as he grinned. "But _bear_ in mind, there are other puns I could make instead."

"So back to shooting quills…" Nick said.

"I'll tell you all about them once we get back on the interstate." Monroe turned to me. "Did you get enough to eat?"

"Oh, I'm fine. What about you?"

"That salad wasn't half bad, but I don't think I'll be visiting one of these joints again."

"You pick the next restaurant," I told Monroe. "This one wasn't the best choice."

"I won't _bear_ a grudge," he replied with a grin. "But the free meal was a nice perk."

* * *

A/N: Nick saves the day and gets rewarded. LOL!


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49**

"Oklahoma!" said Monroe jubilantly as a silver truck passed us by.

"Are you still playing that?" asked Nick with a groan.

"Yeah, man. It's a road trip." He added a hash mark on the notepad in his lap. "The license plate game is classic. And so far, I have eighteen points," he added smugly as he did a quick tally.

I grinned in spite of myself. At least Monroe knew how to have fun. The sourpuss in my back seat was a bit of a killjoy.

Just then, a station wagon with Nevada plates merged from the on ramp.

"Nevada!" Monroe called out. "That's nineteen!"

Nick scoffed. "I'll be sure to get you a trophy." He shook his head in the reflection of my rearview mirror.

A big, blue sign with yellow flowers and the words 'Welcome to California' greeted us on the side of the road.

"What kind of flowers are those?" I asked aloud.

"That would be eschscholzia californica, or more commonly known as the California poppy, or golden poppy to those not native to the area," Monroe explained. "It's their state flower."

I beamed at Monroe. "I knew you would know." I was going to get him on _Jeopardy_. That was my new goal.

"How much further do we have?" Nick asked.

"Forty-one miles to go from here," I replied. After the incident at lunch, we were now two and a half hours behind schedule. Yay.

I changed the music to 'California Dreaming' as we edged on. Much like the song, I was tired of gray skies and brown leaves. But here the sky was blue with white, puffy clouds. And the sun… Oh, the sun. While it was low on the horizon, it was big and bright off in the distance. If we weren't already behind, I would've stopped and taken it in. The trees were budding, all colorful and alive, and the grass was a vibrant green, awakening from its winter slumber. I was falling in love with California already.

Once we were in Crescent City, I turned on Walker Road. More trees on either side of the road enveloped us as we continued on. The road twisted and turned while we drove deeper into the woods. Was my GPS taking us in the wrong direction? Surely this couldn't be the road we were supposed to be on. The dense trees crowded around us as my trusty Malibu edged further into the thicket. This patch of forest was lush like summer instead of spring. Centuries old giant redwoods towered over us and blanketed the sky, darkening our path. My headlights came on, allowing a beam of light to guide the way along the narrow road.

"It got dark back here pretty quick," Nick commented with a bit of unease in his voice.

"Not scared of the dark, are we, Detective?" I quipped.

"Of course not," Nick shot back. "I was just making an observation."

I chuckled. "Just making sure."

"Now _these_ are woods," Monroe remarked, giving me a devilish grin that I hadn't seen in a while.

I smiled in spite of myself. I had to agree, and I wanted to go exploring. Never had I seen a forest this massive before, and I was practically awestruck. I rolled down the window, letting the crisp air in. There was something wonderful about the smell of the outdoors. Even in the confines of the car, I was flooded with an amazing sense of Zen, and I sighed outwardly. The joy brought a few tears to my eyes.

"I wish we could stop the car and take a look," I replied with a grin.

"What's with the green lights?" Nick asked.

I looked forward. I didn't see anything. "What are you talking about?"

"I just saw a flash of green light. You didn't see it?"

Monroe angled his head back toward Nick. "You're probably just seeing the green dashboard lights. It's reflecting all funny up here." He turned back to me. "The lights are bouncing off your eyes all weird."

I rubbed my eyes where the tears still hung. "Sorry."

My GPS alerted the next turn, but as we approached, there wasn't a road. I slowed the car at the turning point and then stopped.

"Now what?" asked Monroe.

"I-I don't know." I looked down at the GPS again. "It says turn here."

"Uhh… There's no here to turn."

It was completely dark, and the red glow of my taillights illuminated the trees in my rearview. At least no one was behind us.

"Let's get out and check it," suggested Nick, opening the door.

"What? Go on foot?" Monroe griped as he unbuckled his seat belt. "We can't leave Renée's car here, you know, with Renée in it, while we go find her grandma."

"We aren't walking," Nick replied. "Perhaps there's a way to get the car through." He pulled out a flashlight, waving it over the trees. "If someone lives in here, then there's gotta be a road... somewhere."

"Fine, let's search, but let's make sure we can keep an eye out on the car while we're searching."

Both Monroe and Nick got out as I rolled up the windows and remained in the car. Maybe Chloe was wrong, and we'd just gone on a wild goose chase. I shook my head. With Nick's flashlight they searched the path, eventually pulling away two large branches. It was a road. A hidden road. Well, sort of.

"You see that?" Nick pointed at the dirt path as he closed the door. "The car should be able to go through all right."

I nodded, rolling down the window again. The path was narrow as trees came dangerously close to my side mirrors. It was even darker on this path, if that were even possible. Branches hung low across the road, forming into deep, ominous shadows. The woods were alive with noises of its inhabitants. Faint howls echoed in the distance. I slowed the car again, looking toward Monroe.

"Hey, I don't know them, dude." He shook his head as he sighed.

I suppressed a chuckle. "I didn't say anything."

I changed my MP3 player to 'Thriller' as we continued through more twists and turns, humming along as I drove.

"_'Cause this is thriller,__  
__Thriller at night.__  
__And no one's gonna save you,__  
__From the beast about to strike…"_

"Really?" Monroe asked disdainfully. "You couldn't find a better song than this?"

"Sorry, but it adds to the ambiance." If this were a movie, it would the background music, for sure. In the soundtrack of my life, this song fit for 'creepy woods in the darkness.'

Vincent Price's eerie words filled the car as a patch of light appeared up ahead.

"_And though you fight to stay alive,__  
__Your body starts to shiver.__  
__For no mere mortal can resist,__  
__The evil of the thriller…"_

* * *

A/N: I could see Monroe playing the license plate game. LOL!

One more chapter for now, then five more later. (:


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50**

It was as middle of nowhere as one could get. The timber walls of the ramshackle house were thick with ivy, creeping this way and that. There was a simple gravel driveway that was almost completely obscured with dead leaves. The lawn, if you could call it that, was overgrown with weeds and other plant-life I wasn't sure ought to grow in anyone's front yard. If it hadn't been for the light illuminating the windows and smoke from the chimney, I would've guessed the house was abandoned years ago.

We sat in the car, none of us making an attempt to investigate.

"So are you sure this is the right place?" Monroe doubtfully asked, breaking the silence. "That hovel doesn't look like rats could sustain life in there."

I double-checked the GPS coordinates. "That's it."

"Let's go on," said Nick as he opened the car door.

We approached the dilapidated, sagging porch with caution. The three of us stood huddled together as I knocked on the large, wooden door. There was no response and after a few minutes, I knocked again.

"What do you want?" a raspy, old voice called out from behind the door in a southern drawl that made my Dad's sound like he was from Connecticut. It came out all in one word, 'Whattdayawant.' It sure didn't sound like she was a native of Michigan.

"Are you Irina Morder?"

"No one here by that name," the voice replied quickly.

"Are you sure?"

There was a long silence. "Who wants to know?" the voice asked suspiciously.

"I'm her granddaughter. I'm Suzanne's daughter, Renée."

"My daughter and granddaughter are dead. And you'll be, too, if you don't leave my property!" the old voice bellowed out the warning.

Monroe reached for my hand. "Uh, maybe we oughta just go."

"Wait a moment," I insisted. "Please, I assure you I'm not dead," I said to the wooden door. "How can I prove to you who I am?"

There was more silence as I awaited a reply.

Monroe rocked on his heels, looking nervous. "You know, maybe we can just mail her a letter or something."

"Let's just give her a chance," said Nick. "We drove all this way." His defense was a surprise.

Finally the clatter of locks and bolts on the door being withdrawn drew my attention forward.

"Come closer to the door," the voice said and I did as she asked. She opened it just a crack enough to reveal a blue eye and a shotgun pointed at my chest.

"Lemme see your face," she ordered. I edged closer as she eyed me. She let out a gasp, shutting the door quickly. More locks clicked loudly, and then the door flew open. She noticed Monroe and Nick behind me immediately. "Who are they?" she asked with more suspicion.

"Friends of mine. They're safe."

"Come in quickly," she directed, and we went through as she hurriedly began locking the dozen or so locks back to her front door. What was this woman so afraid of?

We stood in her diminutive and rustic living room. The inside was as dilapidated as the outside. There was a modest couch and a couple of chairs, a fireplace that was all ablaze, and a few animal heads stuck on the wood paneled walls in various places. It was picturesque bucolic, no doubt.

My grandmother was a sight as well. She had long hair the color of the Portland sky pulled back into a loose braid. Her long, denim skirt was tattered and paired with an equally well-worn, blue wool sweater that intensified her deep blue eyes. They were similar to Suzanne's in the photo my mom had given me, except for their dark glare at the three of us. She had to be in her late seventies, as her face showed age with etched wrinkles, but her stance and presence proved she wasn't feeble. This was not a loveable grandma or a sweet, little granny. No, this was a grandmother; a hard, rough grandmother. She reminded me of the one from the _Beverly Hillbillies_. No, even that one looked sweeter than the bony, old woman standing before us.

"That's a nice Sternreiter you have hanging up," said Monroe as he pointed to a cuckoo clock on the wall. She didn't reply. "Umm, the cuckoo… over there?" The old woman remained silently fixed on us. "Okay then," he said glumly.

My grandmother kept her shotgun held tight at her side as she walked over and eyed Nick first, scrutinizing him as her old, brown boot tapped the floor. When she seemed satisfied, she did the same to Monroe.

Her eyes widened as she looked him over. "You're Wesen!" she exclaimed. Then she inched closer as Monroe held his hands up to the shotgun aimed at him. "Blutbad!" she practically yelped and steadied the gun, ready to shoot. Monroe hadn't even twitched or flashed his eyes once.

I gaped at my grandmother. She was a Grimm, too?

"How do you know that?" Nick asked. "He didn't have a woge."

"I've been huntin' his kind long enough to spot a Blutbad without 'em revealin' 'emselves."

Monroe's eyes were as wide as mine. "While that's a great talent you have there, Mrs. Morder, could you please put the gun down?" He gulped loudly. "I'm feeling a bit, umm, uncomfortable here."

"Please don't hurt him, he's Wieder!" I cried out. Would that even mean anything to her?

"I don't care what he is; he's a Blutbad and he's in my house, so that means I'm killin' him."

"Yeah," Monroe's pitch went up and octave, "can I object to that idea?" He held up a finger like it was a vote.

"Mrs. Morder, he isn't like other Blutbaden," Nick tried to reason. "Put the weapon down."

My grandmother glanced at Nick. "There's only one kind, boy."

Monroe attempted to recede, but she focused her gaze back on him and moved forward, pressing the barrel into his chest. Her finger hovered over the trigger, and I held my breath. She was going to kill him right in front of us!

Nick rushed out of the corner he was standing in and pulled his gun from his holster. "Mrs. Morder, lay down your weapon," he commanded this time as he pointed his gun at her. Her eyes darted in his direction, but she ignored Nick's words.

Before Nick could react, Monroe's eyes became red and panicked as the tuffs of fur emerged. He had a full woge. My grandmother was unfazed at the change, and pressed the gun hard against him. Monroe tried to pry the gun away, but my grandmother was strong for her age and held on tight. Nick didn't move. He was a cop for Christ's sake. Couldn't he take down an old lady? They wrestled with the gun until she knocked Monroe to the wood floor, aiming right at his head.

My recklessness couldn't take it, and I rushed over, reaching for my grandmother's arm. "I beg of you, don't do this!" I cried loudly. "He's my..."

She looked up at me with a surprised face. "This Blutbad is more than just your friend, ain't he?" Monroe took advantage of her distraction to scramble up and retract. She tried to aim again, but I threw myself in front of him.

"If you'd just let me explain," Monroe said as I remained between them. "I'm not that kind of Blutbad. That was so once upon a time ago, man. And Renée and I are… Well, we're dating at the moment, yes."

"Blasphemy!" my grandmother yelled and spat on the floor. "You can't be with a thing like that!"

"Hey, to be fair we aren't things! 'If you prick us, do we not bleed?'"

She steadied the shotgun in her hands. "I've got no problem makin' you bleed, Blutbad."

"Okay, not the point I was trying to make here." He held my shoulders tightly. "She's not a fan of Shakespeare I take it."

I glanced over to Nick, who had holstered his gun back on his hip, but still had his hand cupped around the handle. I shook my head at him. It was a little late for that now, Mr. Protect and Serve.

"This is a disgrace," said my grandmother with exasperation. "What in tarnation would possess someone to...?" The shotgun fell to her side and she held her hand to her face. "Oh, Lord, I feel like I'm talkin' to Suzanne all over again."

"I'm sorry to upset you like this," I said to my grandmother, my voice shaking a little. "I take full responsibility for his actions, but I swear he won't hurt you."

Nick walked over by my side. "Renée is right. Monroe is a friend, and he's nothing like what's in the books."

The irony of this situation felt more and more like the storybook. If I didn't watch, Monroe was going to be sliced open and stuffed full of stones before we left. Or stuffed full of lead with that gun of hers, which was probably more accurate.

"Dude, I swear humans are friends, not food," Monroe said, and I elbowed him. My grandmother raised her head and she glowered at him. "Okay, so not a fan of _Nemo_ either," he whispered to me.

"Blutbad, over there," she ordered as she pointed to an old fashioned, brown paisley couch. "Sit!"

Normally that kind of command would elicit an eye roll or a sarcastic reply, but today Monroe knew this woman meant business and he did as she said.

She turned to Nick, "So what are ya to my granddaughter?"

"Just a friend… and a Grimm," he added quickly.

"So, you're of our kin?"

Nick nodded vigorously.

She looked him over just the same as if she could easily tell a Grimm as she could a Wesen. "Last name?" she asked.

"Well, mine is Burkhardt, but my mother's maiden name was Kessler," he promptly replied.

"Kessler," she nodded approvingly. She glanced down at Nick's bandages. "What happened to your hands?"

"Stangebär attack on the way here," Nick replied like he'd been dealing with Stangebärs all his life.

"Nasty critters. You're lucky it only got at your hands. My sister had quill marks all over her arms the first time we took one on." She shook her head at the memory. My grandmother turned her attention back to me. "Come here… lemme take a gander at you," she said, and for the first time there was a smile on her frail lips.

I approached her cautiously, and she took my face in her hands.

"Oh, my word. You look just like her." The old woman touched my face as she spoke. "But the eyes… Well, o'course you'd have your father's eyes," she said as if that would be expected. She stared into my eyes and reflected in hers was such sadness and loss.

"So, you're also a…?"

"…a Grimm. Uh-huh."

"I don't understand. The research we did shows that my grandfather was a Morder and was part of the Grimm line. I'm sorry to sound rude, but how could you be one, too?" I asked. After what had just happened I'd be as rude as I wanted to be.

"We're both Grimms from the same line."

Dear God, I'd walked into _Deliverance_ where people married their cousins. She must have recognized my grimace because I surely wasn't hiding it.

"We were six generations apart," she continued. "Many of those who could see married that way. Marriages with non-seers were difficult and dangerous."

I recalled her maiden name from my mom's ancestry. "So, the Richmonds were also Grimms? Wow."

"Richmond?" Monroe squeaked from the couch. "Oh man…"

My grandmother gave him a satisfied smirk.

"I apologize for not being able to contact you prior to my visit," I said, regaining my even tone. I wanted to add, 'And if I'd known you were going to try to shoot my boyfriend, I wouldn't have come at all.'

"How'd you find me?" she asked guardedly. "You shouldn't have been able to find me."

"I had a friend helping me with my ancestry once I found out about the Archers. She's great with research and located you here near Crescent City when she found out my father was from around here."

"This ain't good. If she can find me then others can, too." My grandmother shook her head and turned pale at the thought.

"Not necessarily. My friend just happens to excel with these types of things." It wasn't best to mention she hacked into a few illegal sites since Nick was standing right there.

"Were ya followed?"

I shook my head slowly. "I don't think so." This woman was obviously paranoid.

My grandmother paced the floor a few steps. "I don't understand how you survived." She looked up at me again. "When your parents were killed I was told you'd died along with 'em. That you're standin' here is a miracle. I dunno why they lied."

Why would they lie to her? The measures the Davenports took to change my birth certificate and pretend I was theirs without ever mentioning my adoption began making sense. Perhaps cutting ties was so I could live a normal life without knowing the truth about the murders. Maybe it was just to keep me safe from the lunatic who killed my parents. Whatever the reason, I'd missed out on multitude of history, knowledge, and family.

"So, you've seen this world all your life. That must've been difficult on ya as a child and not knowin' your heritage." Her words took me off guard. Of course she would know, but I was so used to people not knowing that I stammered out a response.

"Yeah, uh, well, I grew up this way, so it wasn't a shock, but I was definitely pegged different growing up."

She smiled in acknowledgment. "I began to see at age twelve, but I already knew how to behave and react. You didn't get that kinda history and for that I'm sorry." She shook her head. "Who taught ya about what you are?"

"Well, I had Wesen friends who explained everything to me," I replied softly. I wasn't about to reveal too much to this woman.

Her face took on a look of utter disgust. "Wesen… teachin' you? That ain't the way you should've learned." She looked like she might spit on the floor again. "The ones that raised you, they didn't know about you?"

"No. I tried to explain it, but they didn't understand."

Her face turned serious. "How have you handled your Waldgeist half?" She asked with concern.

I tilted my head. "Waldgeist?" I repeated. What the heck was that?

"Oh," she looked at me with a pained stare. "You don't know do ya? Your father was Wesen."

* * *

A/N: More crux, zenith, pinnacle moments! The rest of this story will unfold tonight...

STAY TUNED!


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51**

I swallowed hard so I could speak. "Wesen?"

"Not to interject on family talk, but did you just say a Waldgeist?" Monroe asked from the couch. "'Cause that's a little out there, man," he chuckled awkwardly. "We're talking something out of cloud cuckoo land, you know? Waldgeists are like our versions of fairy tales. They don't exist."

My grandmother glared at Monroe. "I assure you, Blutbad, they exist." She turned back to me. "Waldgeist translates to a 'woodland spirit.'"

"A spirit? So, I'm a fairy?" Holy hell! I wanted to say, 'I'm a fucking fairy,' but I wasn't going to curse around my new grandmother.

"No, you ain't no fairy," my grandmother laughed condescendingly. "You'd know if you were one of those. The spirit part is metaphorical."

Was she joking? Perhaps Sookie Stackhouse wasn't as fictional after all.

"So you're saying my father…?" I paused my words. "Oh, I need to sit down." This was far too much information. I was immediately light-headed as I took a seat beside Monroe on the couch, much to my grandmother's chagrin. Nick also moved to the seating area, taking over an oversized brown chair beside the couch. My grandmother sat in a rocking chair opposite us.

"So, what is this Waldgeist thing exactly?" Nick asked.

"Waldgeists are protectors of forests and the Wesen that used to reside in 'em back in the day. Even us Grimms don't know much about 'em. They mostly reside in wooded areas, but a rare few have ventured out to live 'mongst humans. As far as they've been profiled, Waldgeists don't woge like most Wesen. They look human like we do, except for their eyes. Always green, a Waldgeist's eyes will glow when they're close to the forest or wooded areas. But it's much like any woge, it's impulse-driven."

I was trying to concentrate, but I was completely numb.

"Your mother, Suzanne, fell in love with one of those Waldgeists," my grandmother continued, rocking faster as she spoke. "Usually a Waldgeist and a Grimm detest one another. Nature keeps it that way 'cause a combination of the two is quite powerful."

I faced Nick. So my Waldgeist side was why he was so annoying? Wow…

My grandmother watched us and nodded. "That you two are even friends is a surprise to me."

"Well, 'friends' is a strong word," I replied, and Nick made a face.

"When Suzanne brought Walter home I knew there was somethin' different. My senses are attuned to Wesen, but with Walter, I didn't know what he was. After questionin' Suzanne dozens of times, she finally told me. The books had little 'bout 'em 'cept for the legends. I made a promise to Suzanne that I wouldn't harm him if he'd give me some kinda insight into his nature."

I stiffened in my seat at her words. Harm him? Is this how she treated all Wesen?

"Walter gave me general information," she continued, "but I could tell he was still shieldin' some things from me. I had to use my own methods to learn more, which Suzanne didn't exactly approve of."

I cringed at the thought of her methods. What did this woman do to Wesen? Monroe rubbed my back, and undoubtedly he could smell the fear creep up inside me.

My grandmother went on to tell us about how these fast and agile Wesen brought on the legends of everything from Dryads to wood sprites due to their youthful appearance and love of forests. Waldgeists would protect forest Wesen from harm, especially from those like Grimms. Wesen, in turn, wanted to protect the Waldgeist even if they didn't know what one was. It was innate to do so. There was an attraction Waldgeists had over Wesen. Even some humans got attached easily. Smaller Wesen, like squirrels, rabbits and beavers were very attached to the Waldgeist because of their protection properties. Other Wesen had a tendency to fall under devotion as well, but larger Wesen weren't typically affected.

So Chloe was under a Waldgeist spell, so to speak. I felt bad all of a sudden. Maybe even Monroe was attached for the same reason. I liked this knowledge less and less.

As my grandmother told us more about Waldgeists, I nodded slowly, but my mind was in a deep haze. Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe this was some fabricated joke. Wesen. I was Wesen.

"…and Waldgeists gravitate toward forest areas. Did you feel different when you entered the forest, Renée?" she asked.

"What, I'm sorry?"

"Did you feel different here in the forest, child?"

"I always feel a sense of calm when I'm in the woods. But being out here, I felt a wave of tranquility that washed over me unlike anything I'd ever felt before."

"You're feelin' that bond with nature. 'Specially here since others of your kind reside in these forests."

Others of my kind? Oh, no. Not only was she separating, I was being put on the other side of 'us versus them.' I was now the 'them.' I let out a slow breath, trying to contain my thoughts.

"Do you sing?"

"She hums," Monroe said, "a lot."

My grandmother narrowed her eyes at Monroe's comment. "Waldgeists are very musical and are attracted to music in all forms. It'd only be natural that you excelled in that area. You play an instrument too, don'tcha?"

I nodded. "A few." So, I inherited my music skills from my dad's side of the family. Okay, then.

My grandmother continued. "Walter said a Waldgeist's greatest enemies are Hexenbiests. These Wesen have sought after Waldgeists for their magic for centuries and are very dangerous."

"Waldgeists are magical?" Nick asked while leaning forward in his chair.

My grandmother nodded. "Waldgeists are used in many ancient spells."

"When you say 'are used,' do you mean…?"

"Like what we talked about at dinner that one time, Nick," Monroe chimed in. "Only in this case the parts she's talking about aren't human. But those things are all just legends, like old world myths."

My grandmother ignored Monroe. "Walter said most of their kind were killed by Hexenbiests tryin' to harness their powers of youthfulness and healing. Most didn't know what they were doin', so instead of gettin' what they needed, Hexenbiests killed many in trial and error. There ain't many left because of it."

"Youthfulness? Hexenbiests are already kinda hot, so why would they need that?" asked Monroe. I gave him a sideways glance. "I mean, not that _I_ personally think they're hot, I just mean, uhh…"

"I don't ever want to run across another one," said Nick with a scowl.

"They're just evil all around, man," said Monroe with a sigh. "Flying off the handle over everything, and all that mumbo jumbo they're always doing." He paused as my grandmother was glaring again. "And I'll just shut up now."

"The Grimm journals mentioned other Waldgeist abilities, but I couldn't get definite answers from Walter 'bout 'em. Even after I tried." Her face darkened as she said that last part. I grabbed Monroe's hand, trying to hold back my anxiety.

"Such as?" Nick asked.

"Well these could be the legends that the Blutbad referred to. The little information I did find 'bout these Wesen were entries from prior to the fourteenth century. Legends say Waldgeists can grant wishes to those pure of heart and they're good at determinin' who's pure and who ain't. Hexenbiests have tried to harness this power as well."

I was big on genuine people. That was for sure. I could usually weed out fake smiles from real ones. I just thought it was body language. Who knew it was Wesen ability?

"Other legends state they have and grant good luck to those 'round 'em."

I laughed awkwardly. "Good luck? Well I think I missed that gene." God knows how much trouble I'd gotten into lately.

"You're still alive, so you must be doin' somethin' right," my grandmother said. That was definitely not comforting.

"If they're so lucky, then why are they almost extinct?" Nick asked.

"Magic's stronger than luck," my grandmother replied. "But, Renée, like I said earlier, you're very rare to be part Grimm and part Waldgeist. You're gonna be wanted for so many reasons. Not just by Hexenbiests."

Wonderful. Just what I needed, more Wesen coming after me.

"Waldgeists exist," Monroe shook his head. "And I'm dating one."

"Half of one," I corrected. Monroe was beginning to stare at me. He sniffed the air again and I just gave him a look.

"Sorry, it's just that I can't pick up any difference. I oughta be able to tell something."

"She's half so you probably won't be able to tell a difference, Blutbad." My grandmother said, looking annoyed.

"Hey, I have a name, you know."

My grandmother ignored Monroe's remark and continued "Waldgeists have adapted 'emselves to come off as human for protection, so even _your_ nose won't be able to pick up the difference."

I was a Grimm and Wesen. My mind was firing off a million different questions and thoughts all at once. This was not the family history I was expecting to get today.

"So how many are still alive?" I asked. "And how do you know about the others?"

"I don't know. The elder won't tell me, but he's mentioned that it's not very many. That's why I'm still here. Lord knows I'd have packed up and left long time ago if it hadn't been for 'em. I stay to protect 'em," she said with a sour face. "There haven't been too many Hexenbiests out in these parts the past few decades, but they know better than to come here. They know what a Grimm is capable of doin' to 'em," she said with a sneer. "The Waldgeists blame Suzanne for Walter's death. This is my way of atonin' for that, and it's helped to keep their kind peaceful toward us Grimms. They already hate us, so at least this way I can keep the Waldgeists from actin' as the Reapers do."

"So, they're here near Crescent City?" I asked.

"Yes. They stay in the forests and keep to 'emselves."

"Are they directly related to my dad?"

"They're his kin, yeah. But I know what you're thinkin' and I'm unsure your presence would be a positive one, Renée." My grandmother said quickly. "A thing like a Grimm-Waldgeist is what they try to prevent."

A thing? I refrained from saying anything.

"Could you talk to them and see though?" I asked.

What might a Waldgeist Wesen look like? I had nothing physically but the green eyes, and I'd never noticed a glow to them, so it wasn't something obvious. Maybe there were other things I could do, but then again if there were, I'd had enough opportunities to woge and see them. To be part Wesen, I felt as lame as one could be.

My grandmother nodded at my request. "I'll talk to the elder and see what he says. But understand even if they grant this kind of request, you'd have to remain diffident in their presence. These Wesen ain't like any that you've ever encountered. They're ancient and powerful, and they don't take kindly to strangers."

"I understand."

"Good. For now lemme show you somethin'." She turned quickly to Monroe. "The Blutbad stays here," she said firmly. Monroe looked like he wanted to retort but he held his tongue. Thank goodness he was back on his routine. Otherwise he probably would've provoked my grandmother and may have wound up getting shot at. I gave him an apologetic look. I would have to make this up to him.

My grandmother motioned Nick forward. "You can come with her since you're of the bloodline." Nick stood up quickly. He looked almost as on edge as Monroe did, but he followed us both to the back room. Nick looked at me with his blue-green eyes wide. Mine were pretty wide, too. What was she leading us to?

The three of us walked into a room with high bookshelves surrounding the walls. I would only guess they were made of California redwood, since they looked handmade.

"Please turn 'round a moment." she requested and we both looked at one another before doing as she asked.

"Maybe there's a secret passage," Nick muttered to me.

"Maybe there's a silver trailer behind the bookshelf," I joked.

"Please turn back 'round," my grandmother said and we were both taken aback with what we saw. The shelf had indeed moved to reveal a red door.

"Well done, Dick Tracy," I nudged Nick's arm as we walked forward.

Cautiously we followed my grandmother through the red door into the darkness. The light from outside the door gave the whole place an eerie feel and I held my breath. My grandmother reached for a lamp, illuminating the area with its equally eerie pale glow.

At first glance this room was something right out of another Dracula movie and I immediately thought of Van Helsing sitting at the old Victorian style desk located in the center of the room. There may have been electricity, but it deserved a candelabra instead. The vast amount of oddities in the large space made the trailer look sparse by comparison.

The far right corner held a few weapons displayed and mounted on the wall. A double crossbow like Nick's and a morning star were two I quickly recognized.

"These are the chronicles of our line, Renée," my grandmother proudly stated with a smile as she pointed to the shelves behind her.

More handmade bookshelves lined the walls and were crammed entirely with volumes of books. I noted a few titles on the spines as I walked by. Hundjäger, Spinnetod, and Wesen names I couldn't even begin to pronounce were just a few of the many titles in here. They were alphabetized, and I smiled in spite of it all. I thought about my dad's library and I wanted to spend time going through everything as my eyes lit up at the thought.

Aside from books there were shelves of bottles with an array of colored liquids, all meticulously labeled and organized. A couple of bottles were labeled, 'Poison,' while one bottle was labeled 'Deadly Poison.' Was there a difference?

My enthusiasm faded as one shelf held a row of what I could only describe as specimens. I cringed at the body parts inside. The most shocking of all was Bauerschwein head in a jar. I thought about Leon Clabar. Oh, this was not what I wanted to know about my family history at all.

"How is that possible?" Nick asked my grandmother as he pointed to the same jar I'd been eyeing. "Wesen go back to human form once they die."

My grandmother sighed. "There are ways to prolong a Wesen woge even after death, boy." Her tone was condescending as if Nick should know this.

I was as clueless as he was. The only Wesen I'd seen post mortem was the losing one in the Lowen Gladiator ring and I hadn't stuck around to see if he'd retracted or not. My grandmother didn't continue with a how-to lesson, thank goodness.

"Renée, this is our line," My grandmother said startling me out of my thoughts. She was pointing to a scroll hanging on a far wall.

I approached the wall, admiring the handwriting. It was done in calligraphy and the tree was drawn out with many branches extending outward, representing the families of generations past. As I examined the document further, I found my name toward the bottom. Below it read 'deceased.' A pit formed in my stomach.

"We'll fix that," my grandmother commented, putting a hand on my shoulder. She pointed at the top of the tree. "Our lineage is rare, for we had two seers: the Grimms and the Andersons."

"Yes. I read from Nick's books about Hans Christian Anderson and Charlotte Grimm."

My grandmother seemed pleased I was aware of this much information. "Unlike the Grimms, the Andersons and other lines lived 'mongst Wesen and thought of 'em as equals," she scoffed as the words left her mouth.

Other lines? So there were more seers than just the Grimms and the Andersons? Oh my…

"The Grimm line gave purpose," she continued. "They were able to use their abilities to govern Wesen as it should be." I didn't like the sound of that and I glanced at Nick, who tilted his head at my grandmother's logic. "If it weren't for the profilin' work of our ancestors the Grimms, the knowledge we have today wouldn't even exist."

"I can relate to the Anderson line," I said, turning toward my grandmother. "Wesen and humans are not all entirely different. A prime example is that man out there sitting on your couch." I pointed back in the direction of her living room. "Monroe has done more for me in the past few months than most humans I've known for years." I said all this calmly, but I'd obviously crossed a line with my grandmother as she glowered in my direction. Nick stepped forward.

"Renée's right. Monroe has helped me with several cases to save human lives. You can't possibly bundle all Wesen into the same group."

"We have this ability to hunt and eliminate the evil that's out there. That thing on my couch comes from a long line of evil."

"But he is reforming himself," Nick persisted. "Doesn't that mean anything?"

"It means he's due for a slip up, that's what," she stated flatly. "And that my own granddaughter is…" she shook her head briskly as she closed her eyes.

"Do you really feel all Wesen should die?" I asked coldly. It was rude and I knew it. But after all I'd heard in the living room, I needed to know.

"They ain't our equals, Renée. But no, I don't feel they all should die. Not anymore. Not since I started protectin' the Waldgeists. The ones like that Blutbad, yeah, absolutely. I'm not gonna lie to you. That kind of evil out there is an abomination. But I'm not a practicin' Endezeichen-Grimm anymore. I haven't been for a long time."

"A what?" Nick asked before I had a chance to.

"Endezeichen," she repeated sharply. "Didn't your Wesen friends teach you about that?"

"No."

She shook her head with a sigh. "Endezeichen is the belief that all Wesen must die, o'course." She looked at Nick then at me. "I've hung up my brands, so to speak, but I've got no problem gettin' 'em back out if need be." She raised an eyebrow like that was supposed to be a threat I would understand.

Nick continued the questioning. "Brands?"

"The original Endezeichen used a brandin' mark." She moved to a bookshelf and then returned, leafing through pages as she went. On the page she pointed to a symbol that resembled a skull at first glance. My grandmother traced the edges showing the form of a 'G.' "The sterbestunde was used back in olden times, but Grimms who still believe in the philosophy don't use it anymore. Too bad, because it gets the point across much easier, in my opinion."

I envisioned Grimms running around branding Wesen like cattle. How horrific!

"There are evil humans, too." I strained the words as I looked at her. "It doesn't mean they all need to die."

"Again you're tryin' to compare 'em as equals. They just ain't equal, Renée."

"Your granddaughter is part Wesen, too," I glared back. "And I see more than just a woge; I see the soul behind that woge."

I tried hard to stop there. She was so prejudiced and cruel, but I held my tongue. I was in her house and I had come uninvited, bringing something with me she disdained. I couldn't expect this woman, who had lived a long life of hunting, to just turn over a new leaf because I thought it so. Still, I was shocked that my bloodline was this bloodthirsty.

"I realize you've got Wesen blood, and that's partly why I protect the Waldgeists. Your mother loved one, and although I tried everythin' to get her to come to her senses, she fought against me and ran off 'cause of it. Perhaps if she'd stayed here I could've protected her… and you."

"So, why did she and my dad go to Louisville?" I asked. It was a strange place to just run off to.

"My sister lived there," she replied. "Like you, she felt Wesen were equals and your mother thought it was better to be with those who might understand."

"So does your sister still live there?"

"No, she also died mysteriously a few months after your parents died." So maybe that was the family that was referenced in the newspaper article.

"Why didn't she take me in after my parents died?"

"Talia said you didn't survive. That's how I found out about everythin'. It was from her. We didn't talk often, but I knew somethin' was wrong when I got word from her."

It wasn't making sense. Maybe something had happened between my parents and this Aunt Talia to want to give me to their friends the Davenports instead. Since Talia had died, maybe it had been wise on their part to choose to send me off with friends instead.

"How did you find out about your sister?"

"I did a search 'bout what happened to Suzanne and came across an article 'bout Talia shortly afterward." My grandmother shook her head.

"How did she die?" Nick asked.

"House fire." She stroked her temple. "The papers said it was a cigarette, but Talia didn't smoke. Whoever killed Suzanne must've found, Talia, too."

"My adoptive mom mentioned Suzanne had a sister."

"Yes, Diana." My grandmother uttered her name softly. "Haven't seen her in over twenty years."

"What happened?"

"Diana flew off to Austria. She'd found some information about one of the Royal families. She thought she might learn more if she went there. I haven't heard from her since.

"So Diana knew about the Royal families?"

"We all know about the Royal families. They're what ultimately governs both worlds."

"One of the Seven Houses is in Austria?" asked Nick.

My grandmother nodded. "At least that's what Diana thought." She let out a long sigh. "I fear if she did find somethin' there, than she didn't survive. It's been so long since she left."

I looked back to the scroll. "You had a son, too?"

"Yeah. My son, James. James died durin' an attack. He was ten. Suzanne was just an infant, and she never got to know her brother." My grandmother cast her eyes down a moment.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," I said solemnly. "It seems our family has lost quite a few members," I noted, reading through the names on the tree.

"It happens with Grimms. It's part of our fate."

I shuddered at those words. As I turned to Nick, he seemed to be taking them the same way.

"Have you eaten?" My grandmother asked. "I'll make us some supper."

* * *

A/N: So Renée is much more than a Grimm. And grandma is a bit more than the Grimm's we've seen before, too.


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter 52**

It was the most awkward dinner I'd ever had. The three of us sat around the crude table in an equally crude dining area. To my left was my vindictively wicked grandmother the Grimm, and to my right was the annoyingly nice Nick the Grimm. And then there was me; the half-breed who was as grim as one could be. Poor Monroe was stuck on the couch. Thank goodness she didn't throw him outside like the trash. My appetite was gone, and my stomach twisted in knots as I gazed at my grandmother. My blood relative. Ignorance was definitely bliss.

"Here, this'll warm ya up." My grandmother passed me a pot of something that looked like stew.

"Is it vegetarian?" I asked hesitantly.

"Oh, yeah."

I added some of the concoction to my plate and passed it over to Nick, who added a small amount to his. Corn, peas, and cabbage were laid out on the table. Those were safe, too. I avoided the fried chicken. My stomach dared me to eat anything, but I needed to keep up my strength in case my grandmother decided that Monroe was too much of an abomination to be allowed to stick around. I couldn't depend on Nick.

I took a spoonful of the stew. It tasted quite…gamey. "What's in this?" I asked.

"The usual. Carrots, potatoes, and meat."

"Meat?" I dropped my spoon. "I'm sorry. I thought you said it was vegetarian."

"It is. It has vegetables in it." My grandmother smirked my way. Oh, that was low.

"What kind of meat did I just have?"

"It's a rabbit stew."

My stomach tried to expel, but I held it back.

"Renee, are you okay?" asked Nick. "You look a little green."

"I'm fine." I scooted my plate away. "Just really full all of a sudden." Strength or not, I was done with food tonight. Nick kept eating. I pushed on my practiced calm to keep from cringing.

"So, how's everythin' in Louisville?" asked my grandmother.

"It's great, I love it there." I wasn't about to let this woman know where I really lived. If she thought I still lived in Louisville, so much the better.

"And Nick, I didn't ask... How long have you been able to see?"

"Five months," Nick said, but he was giving me a puzzled look. It must have been due to my answer about Louisville. Please, Nick, just go with me on this.

"Ah, so this must be interestin' to finally see what your family has taught you."

"Oh. Actually, I just learned about all this five months ago. My parents died when I was a kid, and my aunt... Well, she never mentioned our family history until I began seeing things."

My grandmother's face was sullen. "So, you're like Renée, not knowin' 'bout your family history until much later."

Nick nodded. "But my aunt left me quite a bit of history and books before she died."

"That's important. You can't fight 'em if you don't know anythin' 'bout 'em."

I looked at my grandmother, repressing the urge to say something about the good Wesen, but it would only fall on deaf ears.

"And do you two have jobs?" she asked. It was an odd question, but maybe in her time you didn't work, you hunted. Oh, what a life to live.

"Yes, I'm a trainer, and Nick works for the Louisville police department." Nick flashed me a look and I continued, "Right, Nick?"

Nick looked like I'd just declared him to be a flying purple cow. "Uhh... yeah. I'm a detective... for the Louisville PD." He said the words slowly, not losing my gaze. Come on, Nick. Just follow along.

"Oh, a detective!" she gushed. "That must be beneficial to apprehend Wesen." She clasped her hands, like that was the best thing in the world. She turned to me. "So, Renée… What do you... train?"

"I'm in Finance. I train employees for different positions within the banking industry."

"I suppose that's a good job, too." It was like I'd told her I was working at McDonald's.

Dinner dragged on, and I maintained my calm. Once it was finally over, I made a plate for Monroe as my grandmother glared. "He has to eat something. And he's vegetarian," I said, "like I am." I added a bit harshly.

"Well, if he must," she replied with a sigh.

I wanted to say, 'Look, lady. You want a hungry Blutbad in your house, be my guest. But don't blame me if he decides to eat what he can find.' I held my tongue, hard as it was, and loaded the plate with veggies.

"Oh, thank God. My stomach was touching my ribs, man." Monroe took the plate eagerly and dug in as I sat beside him. My grandmother was off in the other room with Nick, going over some Grimm history. I opted out.

"Dammit, some of this is cooked in bacon grease." Monroe shook his head. "At least the peas are safe. Not that it's a balanced meal by any stretch of the imagination."

"I ate… rabbit," I said in a hushed voice. "She told me the stew was vegetarian and then it had… Chloe."

"Aww, Hun." Monroe pulled me toward him. "Remember, we really aren't the same as the animals out there."

"Chloe has a cotton tail and bunny ears. It's close enough."

He held me. "It'll be all right. You didn't know."

"That woman is wicked, Monroe," I said, barely audible, but enough where Monroe would hear it.

"And here I just thought stepmothers got that title."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

It was getting late, and I just wanted to get some sleep. I asked my grandmother about sleeping arrangements. The cabin wasn't very big. Was there even space for a guest room? Honestly, I was fine sleeping on the couch or on one of the chairs in the living room.

"Would you prefer we stay here or get a hotel room?" I asked.

"You must stay here tonight," my grandmother insisted. "The Blutbad can sleep in the car," she added in an icy tone like he was my pet, Rover.

I glanced quickly at Monroe, who was obviously seething on the inside. I felt how he looked. I turned to my grandmother, who gave me a stern glare. "In the car?" I asked in disbelief.

"I'm bein' lenient for your sake, Renée. I'm holdin' back killin' him." Well, give this woman a medal! I really didn't want to stay at all, but I'd have to stay to learn all I could, including my father's side. The Wesen side.

"We'll just find a hotel and come back in the morning," I offered.

"No, you must stay. I can't have you drivin' in and out of the woods. You might be followed, and I can't risk that." So her welcome wasn't really an act of hospitality. She was worried I'd bring something else in to harm her. "There's a guest room that you and Nick can sleep in."

"Whoa, now wait a minute." Monroe stood waving his hands all over the place. "My girlfriend is not sleeping in the same bed with Nick while I'm banished to the car."

"It's fine," I said with an air of indignation. "Nick can have the guest room. Us Wesen can sleep in the car." This was why I really hated separating.

My grandmother gave me a look of exasperation. "You are more like your mother than ya know," she said with a deliberate sigh. "I'll bring ya some blankets for the car."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

"You know, you don't have to sleep out here," Monroe said as we carried a few pillows and blankets toward my Malibu.

"Of course I do. I'm not sleeping in there with that biased…" I shut up there before I called her names I didn't really want to say aloud.

"Well, she is a Grimm and, you know, I'm…"

"Don't even go there, Monroe," I interrupted as we got into the car. "I don't care if you're a… Schneetmacher." Whatever a Schneetmacher was, it was the only thing I could envision that was high on the horrendous scale. "She has no right to judge you after Nick and I have both sworn that you're no threat to her."

"It's that parochial mentality, man. I'm sure she learned it from her parents and so on."

"Please don't defend her," I sighed.

"I'm not, I assure you. Besides, it wouldn't matter to a Richmond anyway. They're up there in infamy. My nana talked about the Richmond brigade way back in the day, strategically racing though the countryside and picking us off one by one. Not saying some didn't deserve it, but still."

"Great, so I'm related to a murdering Grimm task force."

"That she even let me sit on her couch was probably the most she's ever let a Blutbad do that close to her. Well, besides die. I'm sure plenty of Blutbaden have done that." He shook his head slowly as he let out a short breath.

"She mentioned something about an Endezeichen philosophy."

"Whoa, what?!" Monroe stammered. "Your grandmother is an Endezeichen-Grimm?" His eyes bulged, and the red burned brightly with fear. "That would explain their killing sprees."

"Yeah. Whatever it is, they kill all Wesen," I said. "She says she's non-practicing, but that didn't stop her from hinting that she wouldn't mind picking it back up."

Monroe's eyes were still wide and frightened. "You don't know what that is?"

"No. Chloe never mentioned it."

"It's German for terminator, and we're talking hasta la vista, Wesen, man. Endezeichen did more than just kill us. These guys made Hitler look like a peace-loving hippie. Back in the fourth crusade, death squads of Endezeichen-Grimms would take out entire villages of Wesen; lopping off heads and limbs, gouging out eyes, you name it. Then they would brand them with a sterbestunde."

"My grandmother showed us the branding symbol. But I'm not sure what that means either."

"Sterbestunde translates to 'hour of death.' The Grimms would mark their kills with the brand, so there was no doubt who killed them. I can't believe any even exist anymore. This is like old, old… old world."

"That's awful!" I frowned sharply. "And my grandmother believed in that?"

"Dude, I'm not sure I wanna go back in there. I'm kinda partial to my testicles."

"What?"

"Never mind. It's just that even if she says she's given that up, I mean, she still must have that mindset. You know, you can't just decide one day that, 'Oh, maybe genocide is bad.'"

"She said she stopped when my mom died, and she began to protect the Waldgeists. Perhaps she grew a soul, I don't know. But I don't trust her."

"Makes sense why she's in hiding though. If Wesen knew where she was they'd have a field day tearing her apart. Can't say I blame them myself."

"I'm really sorry I brought you here. If I had known…"

"Look, you didn't know." Monroe reached for my arm as his brown eyes softened. "And I would've been a wreck if I'd stayed home, you know that."

"I'll get as much info as I can tomorrow, and we're headed back to Portland as soon as possible. She thinks we live in Louisville. That woman doesn't need to know that we're in Portland. I don't want her sending any of her colleagues to find you."

"Yeah, well… She sure doesn't seem too happy we're together."

"If she tries anything, you have my permission to eat her," I said with a teasing grin.

"Yeah, very funny." Monroe gave me a brief smirk. "We all know how that story ends. How about we let Nick take care of her instead."

"Either way, no one is going to hurt you."

He patted my arm. "Likewise, Hun."

Let's just get some sleep. It's been a long day, and I just need to rest and process all this information."

"Are you doing okay with this?"

"I'm just trying to understand it."

"Whoa, there. You just did it," he said, smiling at me. "I just thought that light was reflecting from other things, but that's what your grandma meant. Your eyes glow. That's kinda awesome."

"I don't feel anything."

"Every woge is different. Mine, I can feel it, but, I mean, my whole body changes. Now the eyes, that doesn't hurt."

"But you can tell you're doing it, right?" Monroe's eyes had flashed red so often I'd lost count. But I was recognizing the emotions behind the red more easily.

"Yeah. I mean, sometimes. Most times I don't, but you can force it."

"How?"

"Wow, I don't know how to describe it." He scratched his head. "I mean…" His eyes glowed red as he spoke. "I'm just thinking about it, you know?"

I tried to think about my eyes. "Anything?" I asked.

"Nope."

I tried again, this time thinking of how upset my grandmother made me feel.

"Ah, there was a flicker."

I thought about how much I loved Monroe.

"Whoa, we've got some green headlights going on now." He smiled. "What did you do?"

"Just thought about an emotion," I said with a smirk.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

The temperature had dropped considerably, and the inside of my car had me shivering like I was in an icebox. I wrapped the blanket around myself tightly, reclining the seat back.

"There, just as comfy as a bed." My teeth chattered slightly as I spoke.

Monroe chuckled. "Stubborn."

"Damn right," I agreed and put a pillow behind my head. "So, do you think the attraction thing about Waldgeists and Wesen is true?" I asked, tilting my head toward Monroe.

"I'm attracted to you because of you. Not because of some silly legend thing." Monroe already knew what I was getting at. I gave him a grin. "Besides, I think I would classify as larger Wesen, so that wouldn't affect me."

"I'd hate to find out I've cast some sort of voodoo Wesen spell on you." I laughed softly.

"You've got a spell on me, but it isn't because of what you are." His eyes flashed red as he gave me a knowing look.

"Why, Mr. Monroe, I do believe your eyes are blushing."

"Then yours are green with envy," he replied. I sat up and pulled down my visor mirror. Sure enough a green luminous glow came from my eyes. It was probably the strangest thing ever.

"I guess my mom won't have to worry about what color eyes our kids might have, huh?"

"Guess not." He smiled at me. "It seems green is the dominant gene."

"I wonder if the eyes of a Blutbad-Waldgeist would be able to glow red and green."

Monroe laughed. "Not sure, but it would be pretty awesome at Christmas."

* * *

A/N: So,, those little flickers of light off Renée's eyes through story two and three have been her Waldgeist side all along.


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53**

My back was stiff as a board when I awoke, but my pride was intact. Considering the sleeping arrangements, I actually got some sleep. Not a lot, due to the nightmares of my grandmother going all _Kill Bill_ on my Wesen friends. Yeah, that dream woke me up a few times. I yawned as I stretched in the car and then glanced at my watch. It was almost seven-thirty. Surprisingly, Monroe was still asleep beside me.

"Hey, Monroe," I said while shaking him awake. He had a woge as he darted his head all around.

I rubbed his shoulder. "Hey, we're in my car. It's okay."

He arched his back as he winced. "What time is it?"

"Seven-thirty. Time to wake up."

We went back to the porch and knocked on the door. Locks were opened and my grandmother stared at us blankly by the open door.

"Sleep well?" she asked sarcastically.

"Amazingly well. Thank you for asking." I gave an obligatory smile as we walked in. My grandmother glared at Monroe.

"Couch," she uttered while pointing.

"Yes ma'am." He awkwardly bowed at her and sat on the couch, crossing his legs as she locked the door.

Nick came in and rubbed his eyes. His dark hair was sticking up here and there.

"Hey guys." His toothy grin emerged.

"Hey, man," Monroe replied, looking him over. "I didn't know your hair was capable of that."

Nick smoothed it down quickly and crossed his arms. "You guys okay?"

"Yeah. We're perfect," I replied dryly and sat down next to Monroe.

"I'm makin' breakfast," said my grandmother, ignoring my sarcasm. The aroma of bacon, sausage, and burnt coffee permeated the air. "It'll be on the table shortly." She walked back toward the kitchen.

"Maybe there'll be something I can actually eat this time," said Monroe once my grandmother was out of sight.

"I have another bag of M&Ms in the back seat," offered Nick. He sat down on the chair.

"Yeah. Breakfast of champions." Monroe shook his head. "Please tell me they're peanut, so at least I'll get some protein."

Nick smiled. "You're in luck."

Breakfast was similar to dinner. Nick and I were allowed at the table. My pet Blutbad was sequestered to the couch.

"I really don't understand the reasoning why Monroe can't sit at the table," I said sharply. Perhaps, I needed more sleep.

"I will not dine with a Blutbad," she snapped back. "Mind yourself." She shook her fork at me.

I moved my eyes back to my plate and added a biscuit and eggs.

"What did you cook these in?"

"Bacon grease."

I pushed the plate away. I'd just eat something at the closest gas station when we left this godforsaken place.

Nick was diving into his bacon and sausage with gusto as he talked to my grandmother about the time he and his partner shot the Blutbad postman that was kidnapping little girls. Bad form, Mr. Detective.

"But if it hadn't been for Monroe then we would've never found him," he added. Well, at least he'd mentioned that part.

My grandmother sighed. "So he can hunt out his own. That's nothin' special."

"Yes, but he did it to save the life of the kidnapped girl," Nick told her.

"But how many lives has he taken in return?"

Nick and I stopped and stared at each other. It was no secret that Monroe had been true to his nature in the past. We couldn't refute that. My grandmother smiled at her comeback. She knew she was right.

I stared back at her. "If you could stop mindlessly killing, then why is it so hard to believe that he could stop, too?"

My grandmother pursed her lips. There, two could play at this game. Nick shot me a smile and nodded.

"I'm not continuin' this conversation. I believe breakfast is over." She rose from the table, picking up empty plates as she went and moved off into the kitchen.

I stood and piled on a plate of eggs and biscuits for Monroe while she was away. I didn't want to offer him bacon grease, but he couldn't go hungry. If it was a problem, then he just wouldn't eat it.

Monroe smiled at me as I stepped into the living room. I passed him the plate.

"Now, I can make you some eggs without the… umm…"

He took a bite and groaned. "Does that woman cook with anything else?" He shook his head. "We're just going to ignore the bacon grease today," Monroe mumbled as he ate quickly.

"Monroe, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. I'll follow up with M&M's to get me by."

"I can't believe the things she said in there." The cabin was small, so even without super Blutbad hearing, the words my grandmother spoke would've been heard easily in the living room.

"Thanks for defending me," he said. "But she's right in a way. I could save a thousand people, but it doesn't mean it fixes my past. Believe me, I know what I did wrong."

"It's not about righting your past. We've all done things we can't take back. All we can do is go forward and change the future. The universe is…"

Monroe took my hand, stopping me. "It's okay, Renée. Thank you though."

"You can't take anything that woman says as truth," I murmured almost silently. "You are a good, wonderful individual who has more heart than anyone I know."

"Yeah, but all she's concerned with are the hearts I've ripped out of…"

I put a finger to his lips. "No, we will not go down that road."

Monroe shrugged with a sigh of defeat. He finished his plate and I took it to the kitchen.

Much like the rest of the house, the kitchen was old fashioned with a flagstone floor. Normally you'd see flooring like that on a patio, but not in a kitchen. Distressed wood cabinets and cheap yellow laminate counter tops matched the walls, which probably hadn't been painted in eons. It didn't make for a cozy space. My grandmother was scrubbing dishes at an old, porcelain sink as I set the plate down.

"Feedin' him again, huh?" she scoffed as she dunked the plate in the soapy water.

"Monroe has to eat like the rest of us," I replied as evenly as I could. "The things you said about him weren't necessary. I realize I don't know you, but you have to understand you don't know us either."

"You didn't grow up in this world," my grandmother said quietly, not deviating from her scrubbing. "Don't talk to me 'bout what I do or don't know. You didn't get to witness the things I've seen… things like that one on the couch tearin' people to shreds right in front of your eyes. Things that murdered members of my family. Your family. You missed out on that, Renée. So don't come here and defend the same creatures your ancestors worked so hard to eradicate to save the lives of innocent people. That's an insult and a slap in the face to your kin." The words practically spat out of her mouth. "If I'd even let _one_ of those things cross my doorstep without puttin' a bullet in its brain, my grandmother would've disowned me. And you come here and bring one into my home without a second thought."

"I didn't come here to insult you. I came here to understand. And I understand that our worlds and ideologies are very different. How I grew up was poles apart than how it might have been if I'd grown up with you. But my mom… Suzanne… She _did_ grow up here and she didn't believe this was the way it should be. Maybe that says something."

"You are your mother's daughter," she uttered tersely as she turned toward me. "I'm too old to have the same arguments I had over thirty years ago. I won't go through that again."

"I don't want to argue with you. If we can agree to disagree then let's do that. I came here because I wanted to know you. Please realize I just found out the family I've loved my whole life was not really mine. You are my family, and family has always been something very important to me."

"Our heritage is important. What we do isn't for the weak minded. I wouldn't wish this ability on anyone. But this is what we are. And we have a responsibility to use the ability how it was meant to be used."

"Even Nick's aunt told him he had to hunt down the bad ones. And Monroe… Well, he's not bad. Not anymore."

"That plate is empty. He ate the eggs and the biscuits even though they had bacon grease in 'em."

"Well, he was starving. The man had peas last night for dinner."

"Not even a full two days and he has a slip up," she smirked. "They all give in to their desires eventually. Today his was eggs and biscuits with bacon grease because he was hungry. Tomorrow it could be you because he hasn't tasted a human in a while."

"Giving in to bacon grease is different than just killing someone for kicks. He's been Wieder for ten years."

"Did you eat your breakfast after I told you about the bacon grease?"

"No," I softly replied.

"That answer speaks for itself."

I sighed. There was nothing I was going to say to convince this woman Monroe was okay. She was worse than Chloe had ever been. And she made her own convincing arguments. Just a bit _too_ convincing. Perhaps I'd inherited my smooth talking skills from her. Even I had to admit that Monroe didn't seem too fazed about the bacon grease, although I'd skipped my breakfast because of it. No, I wasn't going to buy in on her stupid logic. I knew Monroe better than she ever would.

"So, do you think you might be able to talk to the elder Waldgeist today?" I asked. When in doubt, change the subject.

She gave me a satisfied smile. She had won. "Yes, but as I mentioned, it's risky to have you meet 'em."

"I really would like the opportunity. They're my family, too."

"I will go there and try. But I can't guarantee they'll agree."

"I'd appreciate you trying."

I left the kitchen and walked in on Monroe's dismal face in the living room.

Making sure my grandmother wasn't around, I sat down beside Monroe and kissed him quickly.

"Careful, I might get a hankering for human at any moment."

"Start with the one in the kitchen if you do," I whispered as I stood up. "I'm going to the car to find you those peanut M&Ms."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

I was allowed to get a shower and change my clothes. Monroe was denied all rights to the bathroom. He assured me it was like camping and he'd manage. Perhaps our farce wasn't so far off... Especially after sleeping outside last night.

After I'd freshened up, I entered the living room where my grandmother was waiting for me.

"I will return shortly," she said as she reached for an old, well-worn, denim coat. "I'm gonna go talk to the elder. When I return I'll inform you of what his decision is 'bout a meetin'."

I nodded slowly. I waited around ten minutes after she'd left before I said anything.

"Monroe, can you tell if she's gone?"

He sniffed the air. "Yeah she's about half a mile out at least."

"Good," I said. "Nick, get in here!" I called out.

"What is it?" Nick asked. His hair was still damp from his shower. He rubbed his hands. "I really need some new bandages."

"I have a first aid kit in the trunk," I replied hastily. "We need to talk. We don't have much time."

For the next twenty minutes we briefed Nick on everything from the ruse of Louisville, to the Endezeichen-Grimms.

"So, this woman wasn't kidding. She was actually terminating Wesen?" Nick asked with eyes wide.

"Not kidding. At least she says she used to. Now she's allegedly stopped? I don't know if I buy it," I replied, making a face. "So please, Nick, let's keep the story that we're all from Louisville. She doesn't need to know anything about Portland."

"Okay, but don't you think she'll figure it out?"

"The woman lives like a hermit in the middle of the forest. She doesn't even have a phone. No, she won't figure it out."

Monroe shook his head. "I don't know, man. That woman is smart."

"No, she's just wicked. Evil and wicked," I retorted. "That whole bacon grease thing she pulled," I scowled. "She's trying to starve you on purpose."

"Well, she's doing a good job. I could devour a whole salad bar right now." Monroe's stomach growled as if right on cue.

"If my dad's side of the family wants to meet me, I promise I'll make it brief and we'll head home as soon as possible."

Dude, we've got grandma at about two-hundred yards," said Monroe as he sniffed the air.

"Okay, so are we good?"

Both Monroe and Nick nodded. Monroe resumed his position on the couch and I took the chair beside him. Nick had promised Juliette a phone call and seemed to be able to get a signal bar in the guest bedroom, so he went back there to make the call.

The door opened a few minutes later. My grandmother's bleak eyes met mine. It looked like I was going home sooner than I thought.

"They'll meet with you in an hour," she said while locking the door.

"Really?" With her expression I wasn't expecting that response.

"Yes, but please be polite and cautious. You must go alone." She gave me directions to where I was to meet them. "For now I wanna show you a few photos."

I looked to Monroe, who motioned me on with his eyes. I stood slowly and reached for my car keys in my pocket.

I passed the keys to Monroe. "Here, take care of Nick's hands for me, okay?"

Monroe nodded. I followed my grandmother to her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed. She brought out a few photo albums. I wasn't used to seeing pictures in albums since my mom was awful about finding time to organize them.

The first book held photographs of my mom and my aunt together playing on a swing set. They seemed like normal, happy children. Neither one wore a shirt that said 'Mommy's little Wesen Hunter.'

"Suzanne was four and Diana was eleven in this photo," she said. "We were in Saginaw then. We moved to Crescent City when Suzanne was seventeen after my husband was killed by a pack of Rissfleichs. We just weren't safe there anymore."

I clasped a hand to my mouth. My grandfather died at the hand of a pack of tigers? After watching just one in the Gladiator ring with that Jägerbar, I couldn't imagine a whole pack of them.

My grandmother pulled out a much older photo. "This is me and my grandmother after one of our hunts. This was taken in Smyrna, Tennessee. That's where I was born." Okay, so that explained the southern drawl.

"So, which one of your parents had… the gift? Or was it both?"

"No, my parents couldn't see. Neither could my other sister, Magda. My uncle could, which was my father's brother. Not everyone has the ability."

"Oh, really?"

"My grandparents on my father's side could and Suzanne and Diana could. James didn't seem to have it, but he was young and male. Males don't see as early as us women do. I had a cousin who didn't see the truth until he was almost forty."

"But I thought someone had to die to get the ability."

"No. Wesen think that. We want 'em to believe it, but that's not how it works."

"But I've been able to see all my life."

"Wesen, even half, would be able to see their own kind." There it was again, the stark separation. I was half-Wesen. It had nothing to do with Grimm abilities. I held my tongue.

She pulled another photo. "This is my James." I took the picture of a grinning boy in overalls smiling back at me. "James was killed by a Blutbad."

My eyes shot up. "A Blutbad?"

"You can't trust 'em, Renée," she said with her blue eyes wide. I breathed out slowly. Maybe I'd underestimated this woman. A Blutbad had killed her son and she was letting Monroe stay.

"I didn't know… I'm sorry. But Monroe's different. He's so different."

"I used to feel what you're feeling. That some of 'em might be decent. But then I learned they'll tell you want you want to hear. They scheme, they lie, and then once you trust 'em, they'll kill you."

"What happened to your son was awful. I'd have the same trepidations if I'd experienced such a loss. But that man… he wants to be good. He wants to better himself."

"They all say that. The one that killed James wanted a better life for him and his family, and I let him go as he begged on his knees to spare him his life. He snuck off to my home while I was out huntin' and murdered my son that evenin'. It was the last time I ever listened to one of 'em. Liars. All of 'em. Once I found that Blutbad again, he got to watch as I killed his family. Then I chopped of his head." Her face distorted into a cruel smile.

"Then why did you stop? Why didn't you just kill Monroe, too?" I asked with exasperation.

"I stopped because you love him." I flinched at that word. Monroe was hearing all this in the other room. If this stranger knew I loved him, then surely he knew that too. "I stopped because you need to trust me, too. If I'd killed him you wouldn't have stayed."

"No, I wouldn't have stayed," I said sharply. "Nick probably would've shot you."

"That's why I didn't kill him, too. That you're alive and here is a miracle to me. All this time I thought you were as dead as your parents."

This woman had a hard way of showing her relief. I nodded, however, and didn't say anything more.

More photos of relatives were spread out on the bed. My grandmother had a story to tell about each one. Their first kill, their last kill, and what they were remembered for. Some had been killed by Wesen, as she'd alluded to earlier. Stories were told of how they died, what killed them, and who avenged their death. A few had died from Reapers.

"Do you know about Reapers, Renée?"

I nodded slowly. "I've seen two."

My grandmother's eyes widened. "And you survived 'em both? You do have luck on your side."

"They were together. I knocked one out and Monroe…" I looked down again. I could tell her how Monroe saved my life, but it wouldn't matter to her. "Anyway, it wasn't a pleasant experience."

"How long ago was this?"

"The first week of March."

"This March? But that was just…"

"Last month," I finished her sentence. "They were at my father's funeral."

"If they're sendin' Reapers out now, gracious." She looked at me sharply. "Are you sure you weren't followed here?"

"No one followed us. You're safe," I assured her. Of course she was worried about her own safety.

"Stay here." She stood and went to a drawer, getting out a sheet of paper and a pen. She wrote frantically, then finally handed the page to me.

"This won't make sense now, but if anythin' happens to me, it will all be clear and you'll know what to do."

I skimmed the scribbling on the page. Something about a certain book and 'the blue one is what you'll need.' She was telling me how to open the secret room.

"Guard that page, put it somewhere safe."

I nodded, sliding the folder paper into my jeans.

"How will I know if anything happens to you?" I asked.

She gave me a knowing look. "You will." She glanced at her clock in the room. "You need to go to the elder. Do you remember the directions I gave you?

I nodded and repeated them back.

"Good, you have an excellent memory. Go now, and remember what I said about how you should speak to 'em. They won't tolerate what I have."

If aiming shotguns, starving my boyfriend, and forcing him to sleep outside was any indication of what my grandmother thought toleration meant, then I had no clue what I was about to walk into out in the woods.

* * *

A/N: Grandma is evil, but perhaps she has a good reason to be.

Off to meet Renée's other side of the family! Here we go!


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter 54**

I walked slowly into the dense forest, taking my time as I followed the directions. As I continued further, the sense of being alone and surrounded by wondrous nature invigorated me. I breathed in the scent of the moss and the grass. The trees dwarfed me, and I craned my neck to take in their massive splendor. For a moment I'd forgotten why I was even out here. I wanted to run, to explore. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. Wicked grandmothers and Waldgeists vanished from my mind. I paused briefly, focusing myself. No, I needed to follow the directions and face my relatives. I couldn't run away from all this. Oh, but I really wanted to.

Approaching the spot where I was to wait, I swallowed hard and wiped my palms against my jeans. Something reached at my shoulder, and I practically yelped as I spun around. I was met with a pair of vibrant green eyes staring at me. The man they were attached to was quite youthful looking and was perhaps a few years younger than me. His long, raven black hair was shining from the sunlight that was breaking though the patches of trees. He was beaming at me, which I wasn't expecting. The shirt and pants he was wearing was the color of tree bark. Were they handmade? They had to be.

"Are you Walter's?" the man asked.

"Yes," I responded softly. "I'm his daughter, Renée."

"I'm his brother, Walden." He nodded at me as he continued to smile as brightly as his eyes. Brother? I didn't foresee that one at all.

"Pleased to meet you," I said with my eyes wide, extending out my hand to him.

He stared blankly a moment as my hand hovered, but then he took it. Instead of shaking it, he spun me slowly, examining me, moving my hair, and shifting me this way and that. What the heck was he looking for? "Come out," he called, and more people emerged from behind the trees.

They all looked young and were dressed the same way. There were slight variations for the women, who instead of pants, were wearing long, flowing skirts, but still the same color. Tree bark brown. They camouflaged well with the trees.

Two women approached me and did much the same, looking me over. They were interested in my clothes, giggling like I was the one underdressed.

"Follow us, daughter of Walter," Walden instructed, but I hesitated a moment. "You are safe. Follow." He motioned me on.

With much unease, I followed the group of Waldgeists to a large tree. A man's face was etched on the trunk.

"Enter," he said.

I gave him a look. How the hell was I to do that? It was a solid tree. There wasn't a door. Walden smiled, going in first as he passed through the trunk. I looked at the others, simply bewildered.

"Enter," one of the females said, and she proceeded to do the same thing.

The others nudged me forward. Were that crazy? Maybe I'd fallen in the forest, and was having a concussion-based hallucination.

"Take my hand," said another female. He moved toward the trunk, pulling me behind her. Holding my breath and trying not to think about it, I passed through the tree trunk. I was in a room, inside a tree. I really needed to sit down.

As if he'd read my mind, Walden pointed to a wooden bench and said, "Sit."

I sat slowly as the rest entered, and soon the room was filled with two dozen people, err, Waldgeists. Dozens of glowing, green eyes trained on me. They observed me as if I were an alien. To them I suppose I was.

"I am Wilga," said the one female that had gone through before me. "Walter's sister, daughter of Vavrin." She looked twenty at best.

I was bombard by names of cousins and other relatives of Walter's. They were all related somehow. I nodded as best I could.

"Thank you for meeting me. I realize I'm only half and that my other half is… Well…"

"Don't speak of it." Walden was still smiling. "You are the daughter of Walter. That is what matters." More smiling faces nodded in agreement. All of them were a happy bunch. It was a little disconcerting. "I'm sure you have questions," Walden continued. Boy, did I! Like, how did we just Houdini ourselves through a tree, for one.

"Are you guys really as young as you look?" The heat crept up in my cheeks as I asked the question. It was rude, and I wanted to take it back as soon as I'd said it.

They chuckled lightly. "We don't age like humans," Walden said.

I looked down at my own hands. I always had good skin. Would I stay young, too? "Are there others that are half Waldgeist like me?"

"We stay with our own kind." They shrugged. "Walter has been the only exception that we know of." Great, so I wouldn't be able to find out for a while if I was going to look like I was in my twenties for years to come.

"What do you know of us?" Wilga asked. I explained the history lesson my grandmother gave me.

They nodded. "Did she mention our regeneration?" Walden asked.

"Uhh… No."

"Let me demonstrate." He took a sharp knife from the table nearby and cut his hand. A green mist encircled his palm, and a few moments later the cut healed. "Can you do this?" he asked while coming toward me with the knife.

"Oh, no! I can't!" I almost cried out. "But I heal fast. Well, usually. I've only had one accident that didn't heal all the way."

I thought about Heath the Klaustreich and his claws. The gashes he made on me had gone down to the bone that night. The doctor wasn't even sure they could stitch it. But they managed, and I still had the faint scars to remind me. Other than that, everything else that had ever happened had always healed in a few days.

"Show me," Walden said.

"Well, umm, it's not in a place I can just…"

"Show me," he insisted.

I was reminded by my grandmother's words. I didn't want to upset them, so I grudgingly lifted my cardigan, revealing my back. Walden crossed the room and he had his hands on me. I felt incredibly awkward with my uncle's hands on my back near my bra strap.

A warm heat cascaded down my side and then he said, "Done."

"Done?" I repeated to him.

"The scar is gone."

"What?" I was dumbfounded.

"It's gone." He looked concerned as I pulled my cardigan down. "That's okay?"

"Yes, thank you." What could I say to that?

"So, what else can we do for you, daughter of Walter?"

"I really don't need anything. Can I do anything for you?"

They looked at one another like I'd committed a faux pas. "No, we ask of nothing from you," said Walden sharply.

"I apologize." I bowed my head down solemnly. I really didn't want to offend them. I sat back down.

"Did your grandmother talk to you about Hexenbiests?" Walden's green eyes were wide and shining.

"Yes. She said they're your enemies."

"Our enemies," he corrected me. I was one separating this time. Crap. "They are very dangerous. More so than Grimms." I sunk down a bit in my seat. Now it was his turn to separate. Touché. "Daughter of Walter, you must beware the Hexenbiests. They have decimated us to what you see before you. This is all that is left of our kind."

My family tree was dwindling on both sides it seemed. To be the last of their kind, there weren't many left. Waldgeists were an endangered Wesen species.

"So, regeneration hasn't helped?" I asked.

"We cannot regenerate fast enough to withstand the torment of a Hexenbiest." Walden's smile finally faded.

"I am so sorry," I said, reflecting his sadness. I really needed to watch my tongue.

Walden recounted tales of the anguish that had been inflicted on them. It was awful. Dissecting hearts and livers and draining Waldgeists of their blood… I was nauseous by the time he stopped. My grandmother hadn't mentioned any of this.

"Walter was taken by a Hexenbiest. She kept him caged, taking his blood and feeding him sweets to fatten him up. He managed to escape and returned to us. Most never escape a Hexenbiest."

My dad was lucky. Well, not lucky enough to escape his murderer later, but at least lucky back then.

"Daughter of Walter, you must be careful. For our protection, Hexenbiests give off a warning... We feel a chill of cold when we come in physical contact with one."

"Like Hexenbiest radar?" I asked.

"Radar?" Walden repeated, looking curious.

"Sorry, never mind." They were definitely not used to the real world.

"The chills," Walden continued, "will alert you of a Hexenbiest, but if they are close enough to touch you, they are close enough to…" He paused and then frowned, which made him look older. The glow in his green eyes paled, and it reminded me of Monroe's worried red.

I nodded. "I will be careful," I assured him. "My grandmother said there have hardly been any Hexenbiests around here in a while. Why are there still so few of you?" I tried to say it as delicately as I could with mentioning procreation.

"We are all of relation here. We believe in purity and would never repopulate with those outside our species, so we are all that's left. Walter and that human is something we do not tolerate. Diluting our species isn't what we want."

I nodded slowly. Well, they seemed more cultured on my dad's side than on my mom's, who didn't seem to mind dipping into the same gene pool.

"But the fruit of their union is still a part of us," Walden went on, "and we accept you as our own, regardless." He said it like that was a compliment.

"So,, is there a family… Uhh… tree for the Archers?" It sounded bad form to call it that since I was standing in one.

He looked at me puzzled. "Archers?"

"Well, my father's last name was Archer. So is there a written record of our family?"

"Walter was good with a bow, so when he left to join the humans, he chose the name Archer. We only have one name."

Only one name? These Waldgeists were more primitive than I thought.

"So there isn't a family name, or a… clan, or a tribe name for this relation?" Surely there was a name that represented us.

Walden still seemed puzzled at my questions. "Centuries ago, the elder, Eichen, used the name Raginmund, and his children called themselves sons and daughters of Eichen Raginmund." He looked directly at me. "Is this what you mean?"

"Are we descended from this elder?" I asked.

"Yes." Walden nodded. "We are of his line."

Okay. So in a weird, obscure way my last name was Raginmund. I wasn't going to start using that one anytime soon.

Walden and the others spoke of ancient elders from generations past and how the lines dwindled, until all that was left was ours. I listened intently, taking it all in. If only there was a written document with all this information. I'd just have to use my memory and write as much down as I could when I returned. Oh… I glanced at my watch. Almost one. I'd promised I'd make this brief so we could get home. I'd been out here a couple of hours already.

"I'm so sorry, but I really must go," I said as I stood.

"I have something for you," said Walden and he moved to the back edge of the tree. He returned with a necklace in his hands. Dangling from a silver chain was a round, silver pendant. The symbol was of the same face that was etched on the trunk.

"This will help guide you back to us and will protect you," he said. I slipped on the necklace as an amazing sense of calm came over me. It was more Zen than I was used to.

"That euphoria you feel is part of us. The closer you are, the more that feeling will return to you."

I smiled up at Walden. "Thank you again." So, I had Hexenbiest radar and a GPS Waldgeist necklace. Maybe they were more advanced than I gave them credit for.

"You are always welcome here." Walden beamed while the others nodded agreeably. He reached forward and hugged me, which took me by surprise. I embraced him and his hair smelled sweet like flowers. It was comforting. As he let me go, his smile returned.

"Can you help me back?" I asked.

"Of course. I will take you."

Walden went out the tree, and I held my breath once more as I walked though the trunk.

"So that?" I asked as we emerged on the other side. "What is that?"

"It's enchanted to only allow those with Waldgeist blood to enter." It was better than any lock I'd ever seen. It was like walking into a Harry Potter book. That tree ought to have nine and three quarters etched somewhere instead of a face.

I hummed softly as we walked back. Walden began to hum with me in harmony. The song we were humming was Van Morrison's 'In the Forest.'

_"By the sacred grove,__  
__Where the waters flow,__  
__We will come and go, in the forest.__  
__In the summer rain,__  
__We will meet again,__  
__We will learn the code of the ancient ones, in the forest..."__  
_  
"So, you know this music?" I surprisingly asked as I stopped.

"No, but music comes to us easily." That was a pretty good answer to me.

Walden hugged me again as we were back to the place we'd first met. "Daughter of Walter, this is as far as I dare go. Please be cautious, and come see us again when the leaves fall."

"Okay," I replied. Could I actually keep that promise? It would mean seeing my grandmother again, and I really didn't want to do that. "Does my grandmother treat you well?" I asked with hesitation in my voice.

"Yes. Since Walter died, she has fulfilled her promise to guard us," he said, smiling. "Walter was our elder-king before he loved that human." He looked at me with eyes downcast. "I'm sorry. Your mother," he corrected himself. "I became elder-king when he forfeited his rank to be with her and to live amongst humans instead of his own kind."

Wow, so he was the elder and a king? How old was he really? I didn't dare ask. I'd already been rude enough for today. So, if my dad had been the king, then did that make me…? Oh, it was silly to even say it.

"Thank you again," I beamed. Walden nodded with a similar smile.

As I walked back to the house, the incredible peace I was feeling faded like waking out of a really good dream. I touched the pendant with my fingers. This must really be enchanted, too.

As I approached the front door of my grandmother's house, I tucked the pendant off to the side of my cardigan. No sense explaining this to her. I knocked on the front door, and it was quickly opened.

"You're alive?" she asked. I held back the 'obviously' face and stepped inside. "What else did you learn?" she asked too eagerly.

I sat down in the chair beside the couch where Monroe was fidgeting in his seat. Oh, he was wound up tight again and had no way to dispel his pent up energy. He might try to run the three-hundred miles home.

"Tell me," my grandmother repeated in a more demanding tone, snapping me from my thoughts.

"They told me the same thing you did." She looked at me in disbelief. Was this her plan all along? Was I supposed to gain knowledge she couldn't get from them? "You didn't mention the slow aging, however," I added.

"Slow aging?" asked Monroe.

"Yeah, they all looked younger than me, but they surely weren't."

"As you saw, they don't age like we do," said my grandmother matter-of-factly. "What else?"

"They couldn't tell me what I'll be able to do since I'm only half. They said this is a first for their kind that they're aware of. They don't tolerate a dilution in their species."

My grandmother nodded with a sigh. "No, they'd rather die than do that," she said, sounding familiar with their beliefs already. "I was worried they were gonna kill ya out there since you're half, and it was a trick of some sort."

"You thought they were gonna kill her?" Monroe yelped out, standing. "And you just thought to tell us this now? What if she hadn't returned, or they hurt her?" He ran his hand to the back of his neck.

"I would have gone for revenge," she simply replied. Dear goodness. Maybe that was her plan… my death as an excuse to kill them.

I shuddered. "Well, perhaps we should go." Standing quickly, I reached for Monroe's free hand. "Our flight leaves in a few hours."

"Yes, I understand," she replied. "I wish I had more time with you. There's so much more you need to know."

"While I'd love to stay, our flight can't be rescheduled. I'm sorry."

She nodded. "Before you go, I want to give you somethin'."

Another gift? This one wouldn't be as magical. I turned to Monroe, who gave me a wide-eyed look.

I turned back to my grandmother. "Okay."

She took me to the room of bookshelves again.

"Turn," she said. Back to the secrets. I did as she asked, however.

The room opened as it once had before.

"I want you to have a journal," said my grandmother as we walked through the red door. "You should have somethin' from your heritage. Somethin' that tells you more about those things that are among us."

"Sure, that would be nice actually." I ignored the 'those things' part.

"It's not 'bout niceties," she said quickly. "You need to know what our ancestors had to go through, so you, in turn, can make the correct decisions."

It was obvious one of those decisions was not to date a Blutbad. The other was use your granddaughter as bait. Regardless, I wanted a book. I wanted to feel part of the club.

My grandmother scoured the shelves until she landed on a large book and slid it out gently. "This one details much of the history. I remember readin' this over and over when I was a girl. It would be perfect for you to read." She laid the book in my hands. "Specifically, there's a section of Blutbaden you need to read."

There it was. I held back retorting again, save of my better judgment. Instead, I nodded silently. Saying anything now would just cause more issues. My goal was to get out of here and back to Portland ASAP. "Thank you for this," I said as I held the book against my chest. That was just manners.

"Read it," she replied with a darkened glare. "Understand it. Learn who you are."

I nodded again. As we exited, I fought the urge to run. I walked slowly. If only I could just run away. Soon I'd be on the road and far away from this crazy place.

Nick and Monroe were sitting on the couch when we got back. They both turned in unison, looking more than ready to leave.

"If you guys are ready, I think it's time we hit the road to make our flight… to Louisville," I said, stressing the word. They stood and I turned back to my grandmother. "Thank you for your hospitality," I said as genuinely as possible. No matter what, I still wasn't going to be rude. My mom back home taught me better than that.

"Renée, I really want you to return," my grandmother said with more sincerity than she'd displayed since we'd arrived.

"I'll try." My sincerity was completely faked, but she didn't need to know that.

She pointed at Monroe. "And don't bring him back here when you do."

I turned toward my boyfriend, whose red eyes flashed briefly, but he held in everything else.

My grandmother wished us a safe trip back to Kentucky and hugged me, which I wasn't expecting. "Read the book, understand it. Take what I've said to heart. You can't trust him."

All I could do was force a smile. We left promptly, and as we locked the car doors, I was finally able to breathe.

"Can't trust me?" Monroe's eyes were red as fire as we peeled out of the forest. "It's her we can't trust. Sending you out there, not knowing if they were gonna destroy you. Dude, she's just…"

"Wicked." I added the word again. "I'm so glad we're leaving."

"Okay, so are you going to tell us what happened with the Waldgeists?" Nick asked as I drove.

"Oh, yeah. It was an adventure," I replied and told them the whole story, complete with the Harry Potter tree.

"You went through a tree?" Nick asked bewildered. Even Monroe's eyes were wide after my story.

I nodded. I'd never seen magic like that before. Sure, there were potions and spells. Those were all true. But enchanted trees and necklaces? This was all new to me.

"Boy, I've never heard of Wesen living in trees." He looked to Nick. "Well, aside from Holly Clark."

"Was that the teenage Blutbad?" I asked. Monroe had told me the story about the poor girl who'd been abducted and was left to live in the woods for years.

Nick nodded in my rearview mirror. "Holly didn't choose what happened to her. It sounds like these Wesen prefer it this way."

"And here I thought I was cloistered," said Monroe with a chuckle.

"But a Wesen that doesn't age? That's just…" Nick trailed off.

"Maybe I'll never have to invest in a face lift," I replied with a grin. Inside I was a nervous wreck.

"I hate to interrupt, but can we please stop for food somewhere?" Monroe asked in a pleading tone. "Anywhere. I'm dying here, man."

We found a drive-thru and Monroe rubbed his stomach after eating for three. I had to admit I was grateful for something to eat, myself.

My brain was a mess of info along the way home. Mental filing cabinets were trying to make sense of all this, and even they were giving up on organizing it all.

I thumbed through my MP3 player until I landed on Third Day's 'Hit me Like A Bomb.'

"_Everything's changing.__  
__It didn't take long,__  
__For you to start rearranging,__  
__Everything that I've known.__  
__When you hit me like a bomb…"_

I'd been hit with a Wesen bomb, and the shrapnel of knowledge was digging into my brain. Monroe and Nick kept asking questions, and Monroe kept asking in different ways if I was all right. I simply nodded. I wasn't all right at all.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

The drive back seemed to go by faster, thank goodness. As we passed through Eugene the rain hit. No more sunshine. Nick received a call as we were twenty miles from Portland.

"That was Hank, I've got to get back. We just got a call about a shooting in the Southeast area." The Portland murderers had held off as long as they could.

After I dropped off Nick, I drove to Monroe's.

"Come in, and we'll talk some more," he said as he took off his seat belt.

""No." I shook my head. "I think I need to be alone for a while and clear my mind."

Monroe reached for my hand. "Are you sure you're okay with all of this?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I assured him. "I just need a timeout." I wasn't fine, but I needed to be by myself. If he knew, that wouldn't happen.

"Are you sure, 'cause maybe you need some time with me instead?"

"Monroe, I just need some alone time."

Monroe's eyes narrowed. "It has nothing to do with what your grandma said about trusting me, is it?"

I shook my head quickly. "Not at all." I patted his hand. "It has nothing to do with you. It has more to do with me."

Monroe nodded, albeit sadly, but he seemed to understand. "If you change your mind, just come back, and I'll be here."

"Thank you, Monroe." I kissed him as I held back my tears. "Thank you for being there for me this weekend."

I turned my MP3 player to Bullets for Valentine's 'Deliver Us From Evil' while I watched him go inside.

"_What's happening to me?__  
__I'm dying from the inside.__  
__Body hurts too much to feel.__  
__Pressure adds to pain.__  
__Deliver us from evil!__  
__Straying out of sanity…"_

* * *

A/N: Okay... Whew! So this is my first attempt at writing something kinda out-there from the Grimm world stories. And it was pretty out there. Hope you find it interesting, and hope it wasn't too stupid. Waldgeists are in German folklore, so that part fits the Grimmology.

One more chapter to go tonight.


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter 55**

I made a stop for a bottle of tequila and a few limes before heading home.

After changing clothes quickly, I walked to the wooded area by my house, and I ran. I didn't want to think, didn't want feel. I just ran, begging the woods to take all my cares away. I ran the three mile loop twice, and I had to stop myself before I took on a third. The thoughts still haunted me. Music wasn't helping either. I needed the tequila.

Once inside, I went to the bathroom and closed the door. I shrugged off my clothes and examined my back in the mirror. My skin was smooth and flawless. The scar from Heath was gone. Reality set in. It was all true.

I cried in silence for a long while in the shower. Finally, I pulled myself together. I wasn't weak. Thank goodness the Davenports had taken me in, and I'd led a normal life. I couldn't imagine living in trees or hunting Wesen. No, I'd complained about my abnormal life, but in comparison it was more normal than it could've been.

I hadn't opened the Grimm journal that my grandmother had given me. Nick had wanted to read it on the drive home, but I'd refused. I didn't want to know what was in there, especially after her insistence about the section on Blutbaden. I didn't want to know any of it.

I put the journal in my hiding place inside the false bottom of my cabinet in my bedroom along with the note my grandmother had written. I'd found this cabinet at an antique shop. The store owner had showed me the safety panel, and it was just what I needed to store all my secrets. I'd dubbed it my 007 cabinet, since it looked like something a spy would own. Its base had quite a bit of room, so I didn't have to hide my notebooks all over the house. Now it held notebooks, an ancient journal, and notes on how to access a secret room in California.

Two shots of tequila later, I called my best friend. I curled under the covers of my bed, holding my pillow in front of me as her phone rang.

"Hey, girl," she said with a smile in her voice.

"Oh, Chloe..." I moaned into the phone.

"Oh, fuck. What happened? Tell me everything."

And so I did. I gave her the details of my visit, from my boyfriend staring down the barrel of a gun and the Endezeichen Grimm philosophy, to the Bauerschwein head in a jar.

"Shit, Renée!" Chloe yelled after I'd finished talking. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"I don't know. I just thought this was going to be good for me... I'd meet a blood relative, learn about my parents, and get some insight into this Grimm family thing. But then my grandmother turns out to be a murderous vigilante set to kill anything and everything Wesen.

"Endezeichen Grimms were like the boogeymen of all Grimms."

"Yeah, Monroe filled me in. He said there's a Wesen story book about them."

"I still have mine somewhere," Chloe replied. "But your grandma said she was non-practicing?"

"That's if I can even trust that she is. She was pretty bent on taking out Monroe. The woman knew he was a Blutbad without him even having a woge."

"Oh, wow. She's well practiced then." Chloe was clicking her teeth through the phone. "That's like honing a skill. Skills like that are the kind of stuff I've researched from medieval texts. This isn't something that happens in modern Wesen society anymore. At least I thought it wasn't."

"My grandmother said she's hung up her brands, but what does that really mean? What kind of lapses does _she_ have?" I shuddered as the words left my mouth. "Chloe, I told her I still lived in Louisville. I was that afraid."

"That was probably the smartest thing to do, honestly," Chloe agreed. "I really wish I could be there for you. I hate this arrangement with you being across the country like this. You're holding your pillow aren't you?"

"Yeah." I let it go. She knew me too well. I couldn't hold the tears back, and now with my best friend I could let them out without judgment. Weak or not, with her I could be myself. "I want to call my mom and tell her about this, but I can't… I feel like I can't tell her anything about my life anymore because of all this, and I miss her so much."

"Your mom is doing okay, considering. I'm keeping an eye on her, and your aunts fawn over her constantly. She's well taken care of. But as for talking to her about your biological grandma… No, you can't say anything," Chloe said adamantly. "Your mom will fly that psycho out to Louisville to meet her. You know how your mom is. We can't have that here."

Chloe was right. Like everything else, this secret would go along with the rest of them. But the secrets were piling up again. I hadn't told Chloe about the Reapers, or the Daemonfeuer, or even the Waschbar. I'd told her enough tonight. Those secrets were staying in their box along with everything else.

"I'm just tired of feeling so scared." That I would say to Chloe. She didn't have to know all the reasons why.

"You're safe. Your grandma doesn't know where you live; she can't hurt you or Monroe. You're safe, Renée." Her words soothed me, and I relaxed from the tense fetal position I'd managed to curl myself into. "Besides, Mr. McHowly-Growly is there to watch over you, since I can't be there to do it. Their kind likes to eat grandmas, don't they?" she added, and I laughed. She could always make me laugh.

"Thanks, Chloe. I love you."

"I love you, too, but don't thank me yet. I'm the one that got you into this mess, remember?"

"Oh, Chloe. You had no way of knowing my little, old grandmother was a lunatic. You did what I asked, and I appreciate you for it. Even my real mom left home because of her crazy ideals. Well, that, and she was dating a Wesen... Ohh!" I had left something out. Something big.

"So, your mom dated a Wesen?" Chloe asked with curiosity.

"I did learn something out of this trip," I began. "My mom dated my dad... Who was Wesen."

The phone made a loud crash on Chloe's end.

"Uhh… Are you still there?"

Chloe was muttering and cursing as her voice got louder. "You're fucking with me, right?" she finally said into the receiver. "There's no way you're half-Wesen."

"Well, I am."

"Okay, so what are you then?" she asked with an unbelieving tone.

"Waldgeist."

"What the fuck is that?" she asked.

I explained what I'd been told about Waldgeists, my dad, and my encounter in the woods. I even explained the Harry Potter tree.

"Renée, this is the most implausible, ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Do you swear you aren't making this up? Because if you are, then I..."

"No, really I swear. I couldn't come up with something like this. Even Monroe thought they were a myth. But it's real. I met my uncle, their elder. Chloe, he looked younger than me. And my aunt was the same way. All these people, err, Wesen, they would've been carded to buy a beer. It was the strangest thing I've ever experienced."

"So, because you're a Waldgeist, a Wesen I've never even heard of, I might feel this need to take care of you because of it?" It sounded as bad when she said it as when I had.

"It could be. Chloe, I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine. It's just... Well, it actually makes sense."

"How?" I asked. That surprised the hell out of me.

"Well, you're the only human that I ever gave a Reinigen's ass about, and I never knew why you were different. Well, you could see me. That was obvious, but it was more than that."

"Are you upset over this?"

"No," she simply replied. What the heck was I going to say now? We sat silently on the phone until she finally said, "I still love you."

My breath, that I didn't realize I'd been holding, let out. "Good, because I love you more than anything."

"And so you ought to, great protector of the woodland Wesen." She laughed. "No wonder you got your ass kicked by those Jägerbars over Ted. And then there was that time you had to talk yourself out of going downtown in a squad car over those two ducks."

"I told you I feel a need to help. Between this Wesen thing and the Grimm thing, it's no wonder."

"But at what cost? You can't risk yourself to save someone else."

"If I don't, then who will?"

Chloe was silent for a moment then replied, "I'm not going to argue this again. You're reckless and stubborn. All I ask is just be safe, and at least get a plan in your head before you go off on your tangents. I've got to protect you, too, since it's instinctual apparently."

I laughed. "You can't get rid of me. I'm going to be around for a long time, and I may even stay looking this young, too."

"Now if I start getting wrinkles and you keep that flawless, porcelain skin of yours, then I may start to get jealous."

"It's fine. In twenty years I'll just tell everyone you're my mom."

Chloe scowled through the phone. "Let's hope your Grimm side keeps you looking your age. But since you'll never act like your age, it might be good for you to stay young forever."

I laughed again. "And that's why I love you."

"So, when I see you in May, you gotta show me your eyes, because I don't know how I've known you half your life and never saw that."

"That's easy," I replied. "You hate the woods. Which isn't that taboo for a rabbit?"

"I'm not really a rabbit, Renée. You like to forget that."

"How many bags of carrots do you have in your fridge right now?"

"Shut up, Renée."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

I went back to the kitchen after Chloe and I had hung up. The jokes were over, and the reality was back. I reached for the bottle of tequila and had two more shots. The shot glass was from Waikiki. Stupid vacation with stupid Jack. At least the glass was useful since the boyfriend wasn't.

I held the lime in my mouth as I went into the living room. It was almost nine by my cuckoo clock. I thought about my grandma, who I'd inherited the clock from. She wasn't really my grandma. The story of my great-grandfather saving that boy in Germany wasn't really part my heritage either. While my grandma had this cuckoo on her wall, my real grandmother had animal heads on hers, and in jars, and in books… Perhaps I ought to give the cuckoo to one of my cousins, so that way it would stay in the family. The right family.

I clutched the pendent around my neck. It was supposed to protect me, but would it protect me from all these negative thoughts? So far it didn't seem to hold that kind of magic.

Two more shots of tequila later, and I didn't care about any of it. George Thorogood and I sang 'I Drink Alone' together as I lay sprawled out on the couch in a drunken stupor.

"_I drink alone, yeah.  
With nobody else.  
You know when I drink alone,  
I prefer to be by myself…"_

Three voluminous pounding knocks on my front door jarred my ears. I stumbled to the door and opened it.

"Renée," said Monroe as I leaned against the wall. "I've been knocking for the last few minutes. Can that music be any louder?"

"I said I need to be alooooone," I slurred out as I looked up at him.

"No, that's the last thing you need." He scooped me up as he stepped into the living room. "Tequila again, huh?"

"I need to be a-lone," I repeated as he lay me back on the couch.

"_You know when I drink alone, I prefer to be by myself."_

I sang with George again. Monroe walked over and turned George off.

"Aww, come on. Leave George alone, too," I whined.

Monroe sat on the couch and placed my legs in his lap. "Are you okay?"

"No, Monroe. I'm not okay," I mumbled. "I'm far from okay. I'm not even 'O.'"

"Then why did you keep telling me you were fine on the ride home? I wouldn't have let you leave if I thought you were going to come here and drown your sorrows with Cuervo."

"What was I supposed to say?"

"How about telling me what you were actually feeling and not what you thought I wanted to hear."

"Oh, what I'm actually feeling… Right," I drawled out the word. "'Cause we always say what we feel, don't we?" I closed my eyes. Too drunk. Hush… "I just need to be alone." Maybe if I kept saying it, he'd get the point.

Monroe rubbed my feet as he sighed back. "You can keep saying it, but it doesn't mean I'm gonna listen."

Great. Back to talking outside my head. I held my forehead, hoping that would keep the thoughts in there.

"Honey, I don't know how to make this okay," Monroe continued. "You got some crazy news this weekend, I know. And, I mean, I'm sure it's a lot to process, but getting drunk isn't going to take it away, you know?"

"It's a temporary fix."

"It's not a temporary anything."

"But I won't have a hangover in the morning. You know why? Because I regenerate. Oh, lucky me." I laughed loudly. "I'm the lucky Princess Waldgeist of Crescent City."

Monroe shook his head, holding back a chuckle at my stupidity. "Okay, all titles aside, you gotta admit, your luck has gotten you out of some messes lately. And it's a good thing you heal fast."

"Yeah, I probably didn't get arrowed to death because the Waschbar was attracted to me… or something. Oh, and my best friend? My best friend is probably only my best friend because she feels compelled to protect me. And let's not forget that I'd probably still have scars and bite marks all over if it wasn't for my little healing trick. And the one scar I did have… well my uncle magically healed it. Poof!" I took the pillow from under my head and laid it over my face.

Monroe removed the pillow. "Honey… Now don't start over-analyzing it."

"Over-analyzing it?" I laughed. "My parents had some Wesen-Grimm, Romeo and Juliet love affair and created this mess." I pointed down at myself. "I shouldn't over-analyze?"

"Well, umm…"

"Music says it best…" I fumbled for my stereo remote that had made its way under my back on the couch, and pressed buttons until Cher began to sing.

"_Half-breed, how I learned to hate the word.  
Half-breed, she's no good they warned.  
Both sides were against me since the day I was born…"_

I sang along as I closed my eyes again.

Monroe took the remote from my hand, turning Cher off. "Sure you're a Grimm and a Wesen, but it's not a bad thing. Well, maybe it's not the ideal thing, but it's… umm… It's kinda ineffable to put into words."

"See? Even you, who always says the right thing, can't think of anything right to say." I sighed aloud. "This weekend was a disaster. You could've been killed by a psycho who wanted to play mind games, and I should've just stayed ignorant about it all. This isn't normal to be this way."

"There you go with worrying about being normal again. You know, normal is its own delusion. My grandfather used to say, 'Was ist normal dass der Wolf ist das Chaos für die Schafe.'"

"Huh? What is that suppose to mean?" I was too drunk to understand German tonight, let alone euphemisms.

"What is normal for the wolf is chaos for the sheep."

"Wow. That's some sage advice from your grandpa." I rolled my eyes. "Glad I'm not half a Seelengut."

"No, no, no… That's not what I mean. It means, what's normal for some is, you know, not normal for someone else… Or, umm, something to that effect."

I lifted myself from the couch and managed to stand. "Thanks for the pep talk, Monroe. It was sweet that you tried."

"Where are you going?" Monroe asked.

"For another shot of tequila. Want some? Not that you'll get drunk off it, but have a few shots with me since you won't let me be alone."

"I think you've had enough."

I laughed. "No, I'm still conscious. I think I need a few more."

Monroe reached for me before I made it to the kitchen. He held me in his arms as the room turned into a tilt-a-whirl. "Let me take care of you tonight."

Take care of me? Oh, God. Hopefully he didn't want to lick me again.

"Hey now," he said harshly. Back to talking aloud, perfect.

"Sorry. I'm really drunk, and I… I shouldn't be talking."

"For the record, I wasn't going to lick you. I was going to hold you."

"You're not going to let me be alone are you?"

"No."

I held up a finger at him. "See, you're stubborn, too."

"Not as much as you are, but close."

I leaned my head against his shoulder as he picked me up and carried me to my bedroom. "My grandfather was killed by Rissfleichs, and my uncle was killed by a Blutbad," I mumbled as he lay me down on my bed.

"Yeah," he breathed out. "And many of my family were killed by Grimms."

I looked up at him. "You and I are as bad as my parents. Opposite sides… falling for one another. What if we make a mess, too?"

Monroe kissed my forehead as he curled up beside me. "Then it'll be a beautiful mess."

* * *

A/N: Renée hit a rock-bottom moment, but thank goodness Monroe figured it out and came over. Renée's world is a bit off kilter right now. But she'll get through this... hopefully!

Thanks for reading. Love the comments. Don't be shy. The comments keep me going. (:

Stay tuned for more chapters this week... and I'm looking forward to a new episode of Grimm tomorrow!

THE HIATUS IS OVER! WOOT!


	56. Chapter 56

**Chapter 56**

It was another Monday at the office and the weekend prior was swept under the rug, yet again. It was becoming a theme. Ignore the crazy supernatural and back to business as usual. I absorbed myself in work. I had a job and I was still human. Well, half-human, but nonetheless, I still had to lead a normal life. Okay… Well, at least pretend. God, I was a wreck. I held my head in my hands at my desk. I had to shake these thoughts.

That afternoon I slipped into the ladies restroom and splashed some cool water on my face. Making sure I was alone, I stared at my eyes in the mirror. Surely the woge worked outside of forests. Focusing on my reflection, I pushed at my rage, trying to force it. Nothing. I pushed at my love for Monroe. Nothing. My thoughts and emotions were firing off, one after another. And then it happened. The green glow reflected off the glass, shining brightly until my thoughts subsided. I tried again and again, until forcing it became easier. After multiple tries I was able to do it effortlessly. I could control it now and somehow that strengthened me. I smiled at my reflection. I was going to be okay. The magic of that word returned, and with it, a little satisfaction that I'd get through this.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

I turned on the computer once I got home to Skype with Mom. We hadn't spoken since Saturday and I missed her terribly. She was getting the hang of the webcam and actually enjoyed the personal touch the video gave her.

"Sweetie, hi!" she waved exaggeratedly at me. That part she was still learning. "Can you see me okay?"

I smiled at her. "Yes, I see you just fine. How are things today?"

"Wonderful!" The sound of barking caught my ears. "I want you to see who I rescued from the pound yesterday." Mom moved down and returned with a small terrier puppy in her lap. "This is Chester," Mom said in a baby-talk voice. "Wave hi to Renée, Chester." She picked up one of his paws and motioned a wave at me.

"Aww, he's cute," I replied with a smile.

"Isn't he? He's a Jack Russell." Finally, a Jack I didn't mind seeing. "I'm joining a dog walkers club," she continued. "I thought it would be good to get out of the house and meet a few new people."

My mom loved to talk, so she'd been joining clubs all over town. Last week she'd joined a book club, and the week before that she'd dragged Chloe to a bridge club. I had to hear Chloe rant for half an hour about how bored she'd been. But my friend loved me, and she'd suffered through for my mom's sake. If it took my mom's mind off my dad, then I was all for her joining as many clubs as she wanted.

"Spring time is the perfect season to go walking," I encouraged. "That will be fun for you and Chester."

"So, how was camping?" Mom asked. "Did you wear bug spray?"

"Yes, camping was fine," I replied, holding on to my smile. "I didn't get bitten." Nor did I get killed.

"Wasn't it a bit chilly at night? The weather reports on the west coast were really low this weekend."

"It wasn't too bad. We kept warm."

"Well, I'm glad you kids had a good time. I haven't camped in ages. I wonder if they have any camping groups up at Otter Creek." She tapped a finger to her chin. "I need to look into that sometime soon."

I held back a laugh. "Maybe you should see how Chester does with his dog walking buddies before you guys go off camping."

"No, I wouldn't take him camping. He's too little. Aren't you Chester? Too little to go off in the big, scary woods." The baby talk was almost comical. "If I went camping perhaps Chloe could watch Chester."

"Chloe isn't too partial to dogs," I replied with a knowing grin.

"Oh. I'm sure I could work something out."

Mom showed me the new book she was reading, and then she took the laptop around the house to show me a new bed spread she'd purchased. She was finding the video chats such a novelty.

After Mom and I talked, I called Chloe to warn her about Chester.

"A Jack Russell? You know they hunt rabbits, right?"

"No, but I know you aren't too fond of dogs in general."

"Well, this is going to make visiting your mom kind of hard," she sighed.

"He's just a puppy. I'm sure he's harmless."

"Right. Harmless until he's gnawing on my leg. Dammit, Renée." She groaned. "So, are you doing better today?"

"Yeah. I'm coping better with everything." I forced my eyes again as I spoke, the green glow reflected off the TV.

"It'll be all right. You survived finding out you were a Grimm, and you'll survive this, too."

We talked more about work and how much warmer it was in Louisville as I tried not to be jealous.

"Any news about Jack?" I asked hesitantly. Chloe hadn't mentioned him lately and I hadn't gotten any more texts from Pete.

"Girl, I didn't want to bring it up, but he's getting manic. Pete told me he even went to the library to do some research."

Did Jack even know how to get to a library?

"What kind of research?"

"Pete isn't sure since Jack isn't telling him much, but Pete said he mentioned lycanthropy. Let's just say he's not Team Jacob right now. Has he called you anymore since that one night?"

"No, I haven't heard from him, thank goodness."

"Well, if I hear anything else, I'll be sure to tell you. Be safe, Renée."

As I hung up the phone, I sunk further into the couch. I couldn't sit for long. I had some chores to finish around the house, and then I'd promised Monroe I'd come over for dinner and spend the night. I drew in a sigh and got to work.

* * *

A/N: Renée can control her eyes, mom got a puppy, and Jack is doing research on Monroe. Oh boy!

So happy Grimm is BACK! Thank you all for continuing to read even though the hiatus is over! It means a lot!

Chapters 56-60 going up today. Enjoy!


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter 57**

The past few days had been quiet. No menacing Wesen, no blood-thirsty grandmothers, and even no Daniel. (He'd been on a mini-vacation.) Normally I would've relished in such normalcy, but it left me to my own thoughts. After promising Monroe I'd leave the alcohol alone, I'd taken Wednesday to work at home and for some 'Renée time' to renew myself. I used the time to catch up on yoga, and I snuck off to run in the woods. Monroe didn't want me out gallivanting on my own, but I needed all the Zen I could find.

Nick had called many times to work on the database, but I just wasn't in the mood to go through it right now. He insisted I bring my grandmother's journal over. I told him he'd get the chance to read it eventually, but it would have to wait. I needed some time to process everything.

Friday was the full moon, so I was on my own again. Monroe had offered to have me over, but I assured him another day off was fine, and we were going to keep that routine of his in check. Besides, it gave me a chance to schedule another movie night with Natalie. She had called earlier in the week to invite me to her place, and Friday turned out to be the perfect day due to the lunar cycle. I hadn't socialized much except for work and yoga, so it would benefit both Monroe and me this way.

I headed over to Natalie's apartment on Southwest Clay Street between Goose Hollow and Downtown. Parking was less than desirable, but I managed to find a spot a block away.

Natalie opened her door on the first knock. "Hey, you found me!" A grin was etched on her freckled face and her eyes were back to hazel. Perhaps she'd finally given up on the color idea. "Come on in!"

She motioned me forward to a living room that matched her personality, Bohemian and a bit all over the place. Bold colors of greens, yellows, and oranges on the walls brightened the room. The painting of Seattle with its similar hues was hung above her bright green couch near a few family photos. A well-used recliner of the same color sat nearby with a yellow afghan draped over the back and a tubby, orange cat curled up asleep on the seat. Even the cat matched the décor. A few paintings had an Asian flair while others took on a Middle Eastern style. Cultures from around the world were represented all over in this space.

The TV in the entertainment center had many movies piled around in stacks. Some of the titles were romances, from what I could pick out, but there were a few old movies mixed in, too. A couple of vintage movie posters hung on the wall behind the TV. Natalie sure enjoyed her movies.

A ladder bookshelf sat in the corner, piled high with books almost to the breaking point. I didn't peg her for a reader, but some of the books were on journalism and writing; perhaps they were leftovers from college. A majority of the books were various travel guides from all over the world. I wanted to organize the hell out of it.

"Just have a seat anywhere," said Natalie. "Well, Delilah has taken over the chair, but anywhere else is fine."

I took a seat on the couch and tried to look away from the bookshelf. "The colors in here are really vivid," I commented, focusing on the walls instead.

Natalie sat down beside me. "Thanks. I just love lots of color," she replied brightly.

She and I talked for a bit about the scandal of Lydia and her associates. Natalie was still trying to get over it. We hadn't had much time to discuss it in yoga and she'd been itching to talk about it.

"I just don't understand why she'd do it," said Natalie with a slow shake of her head. "I thought we were friends. I thought I knew her. That's a big secret to keep from someone."

"Most thieves don't confide their heists to their friends. Besides, that you didn't know kept you safe."

"Right," she nodded in agreement. "It was bad enough to be questioned that one time. If I had known what Lydia had done, well, I don't think I could have handled it."

We talked a bit more about Lydia until Natalie felt more at ease about it.

"I'm really gonna miss the galas. I looked forward to them."

"Maybe someone else will take over considering what happened."

Natalie shrugged. "Maybe, but most of the ones qualified to organize it were arrested along with Lydia. I mean, I even hung out with Johnna a few times. I can't believe she'd ruin her chances at her own gallery to…" she trailed off as she frowned.

I patted her shoulder. "Some people make bad choices."

She brightened as she told me about her third date with Mr. Tan Jacket from the gala last month.

"I have a good feeling about him," she grinned. "We're going on a trip next weekend to Vancouver to visit a vineyard that his cousin owns. It oughta be fun."

"Sounds like a nice trip. Speaking of wine…" I pulled out a bottle of cabernet from my shoulder bag. "I don't know how it fares with popcorn, but it tastes good on its own."

She chuckled. "I have something fancier than popcorn. I bought those little cheese cubes with crackers and some fruit."

"Sounds perfect."

She stood quickly and crossed over to the entertainment center.

"I've got us some eye candy tonight for dessert." She held up the DVD box of _This Means War_. It was another 'two guys plus one girl equals hilarity' movie. I feigned a smile. At least this one I hadn't seen before. Regardless, I was in good company and I wasn't picky.

Natalie grabbed the platter of food and a couple of glasses. I poured the wine while she put in the movie. We settled on her couch and watched as friends Chris Pine and Tom Hardy competed for Reese Witherspoon's affection while she had no clue she was caught in the middle of their war.

"Which one would you date?" I asked Natalie while pointing to both men on the screen.

"Chris Pine in a heartbeat. No contest," she blurted out.

I laughed. "I like Tom Hardy's character though."

"That British voice is hot, but Chris Pine… Oh, gosh." Natalie fanned herself as she swooned. "Reese Witherspoon got this one right." She looked up at me. "Please tell me you've seen this before."

"No, but that's okay."

Natalie put a hand up to her mouth. "Darn it, I just spoiled the ending. I'm so sorry!"

"I had a good feeling Chris Pine would get the girl." The movie was just a little too predictable.

"I'm gonna shut up now before I give anything else away."

She didn't, but I didn't fault her for it. How I ever thought she could be Wesen and keep that kind of secret was beyond me.

The cat found her way into my lap as we continued to watch the movie.

"Wow, Delilah doesn't normally do that. She must like you."

The loud purrs from the cat seconded that thought. I scratched under her chin as she closed her eyes while stretching her neck out further.

"Pets usually like me," I replied. Maybe that was a Waldgeist thing, too.

After the movie ended, and Chris and Reese lived happily ever after, Natalie took me on a tour of her home to show me some of the art she'd purchased over the years. More bright colors and an assortment of different cultural themes hung here and there.

"You must love travel," I surmised from everything I'd seen.

"Gosh, I do, but I don't get to do it very much," she sighed wistfully. She told me about backpacking through Europe right after college and her plans to explore Asia. "There are just so many places I want to travel and see. I'm even learning a few new languages, so when the opportunity arises I'll be ready," she grinned. Natalie went on to tell me about her pen-pals across the globe she kept in touch with. She was worldlier than I realized.

"Hey, I've got a day off from the café tomorrow. You want to see the Saturday Market? It's not as elegant as the art galas, but the artists are great to talk to."

"Sure, sounds like fun."

"Oh, it's fun," she beamed. "You'll see."

It seemed our girl's night out was going to include a day out as well.

* * *

A/N: Learning a bit more about Natalie. Off to the Saturday Market in the next chapter. (Real thing in Portland. You know I try to keep it real. lol)


	58. Chapter 58

**Chapter 58**

When Saturday morning arrived, Natalie was my tour guide through Waterfront Park between Southwest Naito Parkway and Ankeny Street. It was a circus of a whole other sort at the market. Paintings, stained glass, jewelry, spoon art, and homemade jams were just a few of the things available. If you wanted it, they had it here. And Wesen were all over. What was it about Portland? Granted I hadn't been too many places to compare, but it was like a Mecca for the supernatural.

The drizzle turned to light rain, but that didn't prevent us from enjoying the overall atmosphere. I picked up a lavender umbrella at one of the local shops. One more thing I could check off my to-do list. This one was going to remain in the back seat of my car, for sure.

We stopped by Ankeny Square, where they were selling shell necklaces by the fountain.

"Uh, Renée, those aren't vendors," said Natalie as she grabbed my hand before I could purchase a necklace for Chloe.

"What do you mean?"

"They're homeless," she said in a hushed tone.

I turned back to the five or six teenagers sitting huddled together. Homeless? Nick's story about Geiers and harvesting organs from the homeless kids of Portland came back to me. He hadn't gone into details since it involved a case, but the knowledge of black market human organ distribution was an eye-opener.

I glanced back over at Natalie. "That's so sad. Well, now I definitely need to give them something."

"Okay, but it's kinda frowned upon."

I walked back over to the fountain as wide-eyed faces looked up at me.

"They're donation only," one girl with dark hair and large eyes said quickly.

I smiled down at her. Jewelry Girl was so young and my heart went out to her immediately.

I bent down to look at the jewelry. "Do you make these?" I asked.

She nodded quickly. "They're puka shells."

"Well, you're very talented," I grinned at her. I pulled out a twenty as I selected a white shelled necklace.

A smile drew across Jewelry Girl's face as she put the bill in her basket. "You know, there are some earrings that go with that."

"You're right. I think it needs a matching set." I reached in my pocket for another ten dollars and handed it to her as she held out a pair of earrings.

"Thanks, ma'am. Really, thanks!" she beamed.

"Stay safe out here, okay?"

"Yeah, I will." She bobbed her head as it dipped down.

"Renée, we really oughta go," Natalie's voice rang out behind me.

I gave the kids a small wave as I stood and made my way back toward Natalie.

"How much did you give them?" she asked.

"Thirty dollars. Maybe it'll be enough for a few meals."

"Gosh, I hope they don't go off and buy drugs with that," she added as we walked away.

"I don't think they're drug users," I replied. "I think they're just living a hard life."

We grabbed lunch and sat down at one of the outdoor tables under the canopy. It was nice to get out of the rain. Natalie piled her bags of purchases next to her plate of ethnic food. She'd found many things to buy today. I, on the other hand, had found homemade vanilla scented bath salts and a CD of tranquil music. A nice soak in the tub was just what the doctor ordered.

I picked at the variety of unidentified food on my plate. Natalie had insisted she select my meal. She wanted me to try something new. Well, it was new all right. I attempted to eat while listening to the live band called Father's Pocketwatch. I grinned at the name. Monroe would've liked it, although he probably wouldn't have found their music as interesting. Their twangy, old-style tunes with the banjo and a washtub bass reminded me of the stories my dad told me about music jamborees his parents took him to in Bowling Green as a kid.

"So, what do you think?" asked Natalie as I tried a bit of the yellow goop next to the red bean-like substance.

"It's definitely something I wouldn't have picked on my own." I feigned a smile. It was something I would never have picked at all, but I wanted to be nice.

"The Fulani Couscous is my favorite." She pointed at the yellow goop. "It's a very popular dish in Africa. They prepare it for special occasions like traditional ceremonies such as weddings."

"Ah. I learn something new every day."

After I'd survived lunch, we passed a psychic booth on the way back to my car.

"Ladies, come here," gestured a woman in gypsy garb that reminded me of something straight out of a tacky costume shop. She even had the cliché gold hoop earrings and a long, colorful scarf covering most of her dark curly hair.

I glanced over at Natalie, who had stopped to take a peek.

"You wanna?" she asked a bit bemused.

I shrugged. "Sure."

I'd always been into the occult and astrology in particular. I didn't expect much from this woman, but if nothing else it would be amusing to tell Chloe.

Natalie sat down first.

"Twenty-five dollars and I'll do your cards and read your palm," the Gypsy said.

Natalie nodded eagerly and paid the woman.

"Birthday?" she asked.

"November 25, 1981."

"Sagittarius," she replied. "You love travel, are very optimistic, and are very spirited." Okay, I could've done that for free. The woman laid a few tarot cards down on the table. She turned over the first one. "Page of Cups. New relationships." She turned the next card. "The Fool. I see you meeting a man who is surrounded by internal laughter. He is charismatic in blue."

"Oh, maybe it's…"

"Don't tell me," urged the Gypsy. "Let me see your palm."

Natalie held out her hand and the Gypsy took it while nodding. "You haven't met this man yet. I see Asia."

"Asia? I want to visit Asia," said Natalie excitedly.

The woman shrugged like that sounded good enough for her.

She went through the rest of the cards as Natalie asked about work, life, and romance. The Gypsy's answers were vague and a bit corny, but Natalie took it all in like this woman was the queen of the oracles.

The Gypsy handed Natalie her card as she stood. "Be blessed and take what I've said to heart, for only you can choose your destiny." She flashed a gold-toothed smile. The gold tooth was probably as phony as her predictions.

Natalie grinned at me. She mouthed the words, "She's so good!"

I held back a chuckle as I sat down.

"Twenty-five dollars," the woman said. She was good at knowing how to make a quick fifty bucks, for sure.

"What do I get for twenty?" I haggled.

"Not as much," the Gypsy huffed out.

"I'll risk it," I replied with a sly smile. I paid her the cash while she shuffled her deck of cards.

"Birthday?" she asked with less enthusiasm.

"July 30, 1983."

"Leo. Dramatic, adventurous, daring, kind-hearted."

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

She laid out four cards in front of me and turned over the first one.

"The Tower. What you believe to be truth is false. Like the tower, nothing built on a lie can remain standing for long. You'll know the truth soon."

"And what truth is that?" I'd learned enough truth already lately.

"I can't say, but when you find out you will know."

It seemed I wasn't going to get many details without that extra five bucks.

She turned over the next card. "The King of Swords." The card was upside-down. "Reversed. A man of intelligence will manipulate you for selfish needs." She glanced up "Don't fall for his looks and charming demeanor. He will only do you harm."

I thought of Monroe, but only briefly. He wasn't manipulating me. Had this crackpot talked to my grandmother?

"I don't know anyone like that," I said flatly.

"Let me see your hand."

I held out my open palm. She looked intently as her brow puckered. Her gray eyes shot up with a flicker of a violet hue.

"You're a protector," she exclaimed. "From a long generation of protectors."

I flinched at her words. "And what does that mean?"

"You know what I refer to." The violet flickered again. Okay, so this seemed like more than just a charade. What was she? I'd never seen violet eyes before. I kept a straight face as she continued. "This man will make himself known soon. Hide the symbol. He will recognize it. Don't let him know."

My other hand reached instinctively to my necklace. Is this what she meant? Could she know what this was? No, that was silly. I was buying into this as easily as Natalie had. Still, it was a bit ironic.

Her gaze went back to the cards as she turned over the next one. "Justice," she said gravely and pointed to the scale in the woman's hand. "Two worlds in need of balance. You must do what's necessary, no matter how hard, how disagreeable, in order to regain equilibrium."

She didn't pause as she flipped the last card quickly. "Two of Swords." The Gypsy traced the arms of the blindfolded woman holding the long blades in each hand. She stared up at me. "A choice must be made. Two of Swords indicates that you'll face a difficult decision. You can't hide from it. It won't go away on its own accord. Avoidance will ultimately lead to a greater conflict. The choice will be yours to decide, but it's one that must be made."

I nodded wordlessly at her. A choice? What choice? I looked into her eyes. She believed in what she was saying. Her countenance wasn't faked. Whatever she thought she saw she genuinely believed it.

"Do you have any questions?" she asked.

"No, uhh… Thank you," I stammered as I stood.

Her eyes flashed again as she held out her business card. "Be blessed and listen to what I've warned of."

I took the card. "Thanks, I will."

"Our destiny is up to you, Renée," she whispered as Natalie reached for my arm to leave.

My eyes widened. Holy hell, she knew my name. A shiver ran up my spine. Oh, this wasn't good at all.

Natalie looked wide-eyed at me as we walked off. "What was that all about?"

I shrugged indifferently. "I don't know. She was probably just trying to scare me since I only paid twenty dollars."

"Yeah. You're probably right. You gave homeless people thirty, but you couldn't give her twenty-five?" she giggled.

"She was a hack. I'll do your chart sometime if you want. I don't charge."

"Ooh, that would be awesome," she replied. "But I think she knew more than you think she did. She mentioned Asia. Gosh, I just knew I was going to get to go there someday," she beamed out the words. "I need to make plans!"

"Let's get going. It's getting kinda late," I said with a sigh.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

"Violet eyes? I've never seen a Wesen with violet eyes," said Chloe as I leaned back against my couch. "Are you sure it wasn't the lighting?"

"No, it was definitely a shift of color," I replied into the phone. "She knew my name, Chloe."

"Maybe she overheard you and your friend talking," she reasoned.

"Could be, but I'm just not sure."

"You know how many psychic fairs we've gone to over the years, Renée? Too many. And there's always a nut job at every one. Don't let her crazy interpretations get you all freaked out. Your friend was probably right. You stiffed her out of five bucks and she wanted to scare you with gloom and doom," she laughed.

"Yeah, that's probably it."

"Of course it is. You need to take a break from all this over-thinking."

I nodded into the phone. "I bought some bath salts today."

"There you go. Relax in the tub and let that and Calgon take you away, or whatever the commercial says."

I laughed, "Thanks Chloe. I miss you."

"You, too, girl. May is almost here and I can't wait to see you."

After talking to Chloe, my mind was more at ease, but there was still a gut feeling that what the Gypsy said was more than just for show. I pulled up my laptop and for the next hour I researched the tarot cards. The gray clouds surrounding the Tower card reminded me of Portland. Sure, our clouds didn't rain down fire, but it still produced the same amount of dread. The research turned up the same results as what the Gypsy had told me. Truths would be revealed, shattering foundations that had been built.

Justice and the Two of Swords were much the same, too. My mind went back to Madame Dazzles' cryptic message of tipping the scales and balances. But choices? I'd made many choices already. What else might I have to decide?

As I researched the reversed King of Swords, I paused on a line about the card representing law enforcement. 'A tyrant who corrupts from within, bending his sword for his own means.' It reminded me of Madame Dazzles' cryptic warning about 'Law enforcement is filled with more thieves than guards.'

Breaking truths, balances, choices? Perhaps she was seeing what had already happened. Each of those things summed up the past couple of months already. I shook my head. Maybe I was trying too hard to link things together.

I set my laptop aside and called Monroe, detailing my adventure of a day.

"Come on. Psychics? Man, you know what I think of that mumbo jumbo, crystal ball stuff. I mean some of it _is_ on the up and up, but someone at the Saturday Market is the kind you'd find on infomercials late at night. Not the real deal."

"She didn't have a crystal ball. She had tarot cards."

"Yeah, like that's more convincing," he chuckled.

"Her eyes morphed and it was nothing like I've ever seen."

"Morphed, how?"

"They flashed violet."

"Violet eyes? That's a new one on me, man. Did anything else change?"

"No. Just the eyes. But the things she told me… Well, it was hard not to listen."

I told him about the cards, and the warnings.

"Yeah, but I mean, that kind of interpretation could mean anything," Monroe reasoned. "Your brain is already filled up enough with Waschbars, grandmas, and Waldgeists. Of course you're gonna associate these predictions with everything else."

"But how did she know my name?"

"Man, I don't know. Maybe she just… Well, it could've been…"

"Maybe it came to her?"

"Nah. It had to be something else. Hun, regardless of whether she's a wise, old Zigeuner or Dionne Warwick's best friend, don't let it get to you, okay?"

"Yeah. You're probably right."

"Instead of worrying, why don't you come on over."

"I think I'm gonna stay in tonight."

A small whine came from him. "But I missed you last night."

"I know, but I wouldn't be good company."

"Okay, but promise me you won't harp on this, all right?"

"Yeah," I said as I glanced back over at the laptop. "I'll let it go."

"You won't let it go," he said firmly. "Don't promise that much."

I chuckled softly. "I'll at least let it go to the back burner, how's that?"

"As good as I'm gonna get from you, I suppose."

As I hung up the phone, I reached for the pendant around my neck. Maybe it wasn't safe to wear it. I shook my head. Walden hadn't said how it would protect me, but I couldn't talk myself into taking it off just yet. I closed my laptop and sifted through my bag for my bath salts. It was time to Zen out in the tub.

* * *

A/N: Ooh, so puka shells at the square, sounds familiar, huh? Crazy psychics with violet eyes... Hmmm... If you want to see the tarot cards from Renée's reading, go to my profile for the link. (:


	59. Chapter 59

**Chapter 59**

On Sunday I woke up completely drained. Nightmares of Kings with glowing violet eyes, chasing me with swords and crumbling towers haunted my dreams. I called Nick against my better judgment. Maybe he'd run across something that matched what I'd seen in the eyes of the Gypsy.

"Are you sure she was Wesen?" Nick asked after I described what I'd seen at the Market.

"Flickering colored eyes isn't a human trait, so I'm pretty certain."

"Meet me at the trailer and we'll look," he replied. "And bring your laptop and that other book with you."

I sighed softly into the phone. "I've got work to do this morning."

"Okay. Well, then how about this evening?"

Monroe wasn't going to be happy, but I agreed.

I ran the errands I'd been putting off and finished the flowchart I'd been working on by that evening. Finally, I called Monroe to tell him I'd made plans at the trailer.

"Oh man. Can't it wait?" Monroe grumbled. "I was looking forward to you and me and asparagus pasta tonight."

"While that sounds delicious," I said trying not to blanch over asparagus, "I just want to figure out what I saw. You wanna go with me? Three sets of eyes are better than two."

"Nah. You go Grimm it up with Nick. I'll sit here alone and enjoy my pasta for one," he sighed out with exaggeration.

"Aww. I'm sorry, Monroe."

"You're coming over tomorrow. And I don't want to hear any ifs, ands, or buts, okay?"

"See you tomorrow."

After calling Nick, I gathered my things and headed to the trailer. Hours upon hours of reading turned up no clues as to what the Gypsy was.

"I bet your grandma's books would have something," said Nick as he laid down the journal he'd been scouring through. "None of these even mention Waldgeists, either."

I shook my head. "Well, I'm not going on another trip there if I can help it."

I rubbed my eyes. I'd been staring at the computer screen far too long. On the plus side, we'd expanded the database quite a bit tonight, but I was frustrated not having any more knowledge about what I really wanted to know.

Nick slumped back in his wooden chair. "So, do you wanna call it a night? I'm kinda beat."

"Yeah, it's getting late and I have a lot scheduled tomorrow at work." I looked over at him. "Thanks for trying."

I held my grandmother's book as I stood. Nick had gone through it, but I hadn't. I didn't want to read the section on Blutbaden. It probably held the same warnings the book in the trailer did, but what if there was something worse? Fear of that possibility kept my curiosity at bay. I didn't want to know anything worse.

"If I come across anything else, I'll let you know." Nick smiled like he cared. At least that's the way I was going to take it.

I passed him the book. "I want you to keep this here. It's probably safer for it to be with the others than in my house."

Nick hesitantly took the book from my hand. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Besides, it may have something you might need later on."

"It did have some interesting…"

"I don't want to know," I cut him off. "Just keep it here, and let's not talk about it, okay?"

"Fair enough," Nick replied with a toothy grin.

I drove home completely deflated and missing Monroe. Perhaps it was better if I didn't know what the Gypsy was. If I did, then it might mean everything she'd told me was true, and I was going to have some crazy role to play between balancing two worlds, making tough choices, and towers of lies falling on top of me. Maybe I should've paid her that extra five bucks. Then she might have told me I'd be happy with Monroe and taking a cruise instead. Who knows…

I changed into my comfy PJs when I got home and turned in for the night. I asked the universe to send me better dreams and less chaos. I deserved that much tonight at least.

* * *

A/N: No luck on the Wesen with violet eyes... Nick has grandma's book, now.


	60. Chapter 60

**Chapter 60**

Oh, Monday. The weekend was over and I was back to a full schedule of meetings and trainings once again. Daniel was in my office with a list of restaurants in Denver along with the PowerPoints he'd completed today.

So, this one has great steaks," Tall, Dark, and Arrogant said as he went through his list.

"I'm a vegetarian. Can we please focus on the presentation instead of food?"

"A vegetarian?" he chuckled like I'd made a joke. "A spit-fire like you? I figured you enjoyed ripping into a big piece of…"

"Daniel. The presentation?" I cut him short. My hand hovered over my phone. Just call HR and get it over with. No, not worth the effort.

"Fine. But after that, you'll need to pick out a place."

"We'll have plenty of time to discuss restaurants in June," I assured him.

After an hour of going over charts and talking points, I was ready for a break. My phone beeped as Daniel left my office. I reached for my cell and groaned. It was a text from Jack. Great, replace one asshole with another.

**I know the truth.**

I shook my head at the words. Truth? Oh, God. Were my towers going to crash in on me today? What had he researched now?

**What truth?**

The phone rang in my hands. Dammit! I shouldn't have replied to him.

I answered the phone. "I'm at work, Jack. What do you want?"

"He's a werewolf. Don't lie to me."

"Are we back to this again? You can't honestly be…"

"Lycanthropy," he cut in. "It's all that makes sense. I've read all about it."

"That makes sense? _Twilight_ isn't considered reference material. Lycanthropy isn't a real thing, Jack."

"Now you're just covering it up."

"No, I'm living in the real world and not your delusional one," I bitterly replied.

"There was the case of Pierre Burgot and Michael Verdum in France back in 1521. Those two men were caught eating villagers and were put to death for being werewolves. There have been accounts of men and women eating people all through history, even in the past decade. But no one believed the ones who tried to alert authorities."

"So, was Jeffrey Dahmer a werewolf, too?" I scoffed. He was a Wendigo, but Jack didn't need to know that.

"Maybe. I need to check on that one. But what matters is that your boyfriend is a monster. Has he bit you?"

"Where Monroe's mouth goes is none of your business, Jack. I'm hanging up now."

"If he bites you, you'll turn into one too!"

"Goodbye, Jack."

I hung up with another groan and shook my head as I tossed my cell on my desk. I didn't need this right now. I needed… to go to lunch. Thankfully, it was past noon. Lunch at my favorite café would lift my spirits.

As I entered, the familiar face of my lawyer lunch buddy greeted me. She was sitting at our usual table by the window.

"Renée!" she called out. I crossed the café and sat down.

"Adalind, I'm glad to see you."

She looked concerned. "Oh, why is that?"

"It's just been a rough day," I said waving it off. "How are you?"

"Good, actually," she said with a grin. "I took a half day today. This morning I made a trip to the art museum. I met up with an old boyfriend of mine."

"Oh, really? Old boyfriend?" I grinned back at her.

"We stay in touch. It's not like that," she quickly replied while keeping her composure.

Such a Libra. Her birthday was a week after my mom's. Even so, there was a slight blush to her cheeks. Being with her ex may not seem like anything, but she sure wanted it to be. The waitress came by and took my order.

"Did you get to see _La Bella_?"I asked. "It's still exhibiting at the museum." Well, it was again since Nick had recovered it.

"Oh, that? Yes, I saw it, but that's really not my kind of art."

"Really? I found it beautiful."

"She's… Well, like I told my old boyfriend, she's kind of fat."

"A woman of wealth showed it off by her weight."

Adalind chuckled with a sardonic smile. "She seems a bit too wealthy to me."

As the waitress brought my lunch and tea, Adalind and I moved our conversation from art to relationships. I let her know Monroe and I were still great as ever.

"So, have you heard from the bee whisperer lately?"

She chuckled as she smiled. "Actually I'm dropping by his house tomorrow night."

"Oh, really?"

Her smile widened. "I'm hoping to… push things along."

"Well, that sounds promising," I grinned as I drank my tea.

"Oh, I have a plan he won't be able to resist." Adalind's smile turned almost sinister. "I'm going to do a little baking. He won't be able to say no to my chocolate chip cookies."

Poor guy. It seemed he was getting more than he bargained for with this one.

"They say a way to man's heart is through his stomach."

"That's one way," she nodded with a smirk. "That reminds me, I'm having a get-together Thursday night with a few friends." Her face shifted into a perfect smile. "Nothing fancy, just appetizers and wine with the girls. Maybe dessert. I could bake something special. I'd love for you to meet them. Are you free?"

"Yes, I should be," I replied. I'd have to let Monroe know, but he was doing better with our days apart.

"Great! I can't wait."

She gave me her address on Northwest Everett Street and I put it into my phone. Wine and human interaction. Sounded like a wonderful evening to me.

"I've got to get back to the office," Adalind said as she stood. "They just hate it when I take time off."

I gathered my things. "Yeah, I've got a training I need to finalize."

Adalind glanced at my blouse. "That's an interesting necklace you're wearing."

"Oh, this? Just a… family heirloom," I stammered back. That was putting it mildly.

"Ah," she said with a twitch of her mouth. "Such a unique design." She shook her head quickly and her artificial smile returned. "So glad you stopped in here for lunch today."

We both paid for our meals and said our goodbyes.

"I'll see you Thursday. Do you want me to bring anything?"

"Just your appetite," she replied.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

While dining on Monroe's vegetable lasagna I went through my day. I left out the parts about Denver restaurants and exes. If Monroe had known about Jack it would've made for a sour evening. Instead I mentioned Adalind's party.

"It's on Thursday. You're fine with that, right?" I asked.

"Yeah, no problem," he rested his free hand on mine. "It's good for you, you know, to go socialize."

"Monroe I'm fine, really," I said. "And I've been going out. Natalie and I _socialized_ over the weekend, remember?"

Monroe nodded. "Yeah, but I know you stayed in a couple of days, too."

"I just needed some alone time." I looked down at my plate.

"I understand needing to do the solo thing sometimes. But I just mean it'll be good for you to get out with some new people, human beings, you know?" His eyes widened. "Not to say that, umm, you're not human, I mean, you still are, but…"

A small sigh escaped me. "It's fine, Monroe. I'm half-human. If a Grimm is still considered human."

"Yeah, well, of course your Grimm side is human. I mean, not a typical human, but still…" He awkwardly took a forkful of lasagna into his mouth.

"This week was just overwhelming." I looked up into his brown eyes. "And not just for what I learned. Monroe, that woman wanted to kill you… wanted you dead. And I'm related to that."

"But that's not you. I mean, technically you have her genetics, of course, but her mentality? Well, that you don't have. Thank God for that." He cleared his throat. "To be honest, and I only say this as a possibility, since you're half Wesen, you may not even have the Grimm gene. You said that your grandma's parents didn't have the ability to see, so it's possible you only see what you do because of your Wesen side."

"No, I don't think this reckless force is the Wesen side."

"Well, the Waldgeists are protectors, so it could be."

I shrugged. "No real way to tell for sure. But it doesn't matter."

"Well, Thursday you go spend some time with these ladies and, you know, just put all this stuff out of your mind for a few hours."

"She said she's baking dessert," I grinned.

"I can do dessert, too," Monroe gave me a wink. "Oh, before I forget… Saturday I have a Bikram class. I've been to your yoga class twice now, so you're coming to mine for a change," Monroe said rather than asked. "My instructor wants to meet you. She thinks I'm making you up," he laughed.

"Uh, okay?" I hesitantly replied. I still wasn't too sure about Bikram.

"It's good. You'll enjoy it." He seemed satisfied with his idea, but I worked hard to keep my face smooth as I nodded.

"What time is this class?" There was no way it was going to be an afternoon kind of thing.

"Six." He smiled the words.

Yay. Early o'clock in the morning.

"Okay, we can do that," I said.

"Promise me you won't back out. I'm gonna hold you to this promise, all right?"

I nodded. "I promise."

Monroe gave me his trademark smile.

After dinner, he offered to bake up a little dessert, a là bedroom.

We stumbled up the stairs as we tried to walk and kiss simultaneously. Once we finally reached the top, Monroe pressed me up against the door to the bedroom, taking advantage of the opportunity to hold me in place. His mouth moved from my lips to my neck until I gasped out.

"I just love the noises you make," he said in a sexy tone as I managed to find the doorknob. We practically fell into the bedroom as we continued moving our hands over one another.

I stretched up and laced my arms over Monroe's neck as he kissed me again. He hooked his fingers into the belt loops of the back of my jeans and pulled me toward him. I reached down to unbutton his shirt.

He grabbed my hand on the first button. "Hang on a second."

I gave him a puzzled look. Since when did he want me to slow down?

Monroe let me go and held up a finger. "Don't move."

He crossed the bedroom and rifled through a dresser drawer. What was he looking for? He closed the drawer and turned to face me. Monroe's devilish grin spread over his face. In his hand he held a long, braided, nylon rope. It was bright red.

* * *

A/N: Adalind is making dessert? That's never good.  
Red rope? Oh, Monroe... What are you thinking?

I'll leave you with this cliffhanger for now. Comment if you liked it.

STAY TUNED!


	61. Chapter 61

**Chapter 61**

Monroe walked forward, rope in hand. "Do you trust me?"

A small shudder ran through me as I looked up at him. "It's red."

"Do you trust me?" His eyes were blazing as he twisted the rope around his fingers.

"Monroe, you know I trust you." It was his instincts I was wary of. I stood frozen by the bed. "Do you always keep rope in your dresser?"

Monroe glanced downward. "I bought it the other day." So, this was premeditated. Hmm… His eyes met mine again. "You wanna try it out?"

I really shouldn't have read that silly _Fifty Shades_ book. I wanted to, oh, but that color... Monroe had proven that he could control himself with much more red than this. My thoughts trailed back to being tied up and helpless with the Daemonfeuer. No, this form of helplessness would be different. It would be like it was in the woods in Kentucky; that delicious vulnerability and Monroe taking control. I rather liked that feeling. My teeth bit into my lower lip.

Monroe pointed at his nose. "So, am I to take that as a yes?"

My eyes fixed on his. The red in his eyes was brighter, mischievous… incredibly seductive. Oh, you sexy, sly wolf.

I nodded silently.

His grin reemerged. "Good."

"Have you done this before?" I asked pensively.

Monroe shook his head. "No. Umm, have you?"

"First time."

Jack had asked to tie me up a few times. I'd merely laughed at the request. Tonight I wasn't laughing. Was it wrong that I trusted a wolf over him? No, this was different. Besides, we were two BDSM virgins. First time for everything. With Monroe I was constantly adding more firsts to my list.

I peered over the edge of the bed as Monroe moved to the far corner and threaded the rope around one of the bed legs. He held up the two ends in my direction.

"So, in boy scouts I was always fond of the French bowline knot. You enjoy French, right, Renée?" Even his smirk was devilish.

"French is enjoyable, yes."

"Let's see what kind of merit badge I can earn tonight." He gave a throaty chuckle. Boy Scouts would've been even more popular had there been bondage merit badges. Imagine practicing for that one.

Monroe sized up the rope, looking it over like he was figuring things out. I curiously watched the clock gears in his brain turn at every point. "Come here," he said and switched his gaze from the rope to me. "Lie down."

I hesitated slightly. This was really going to happen. My breath caught in my throat as I swallowed it down. I moved across the bed.

He eyed me again. "Is there anything that you're wearing that you'd miss if it were… ripped?"

My eyes widened. A flush of heat ran through me at the thought. "I... Uhh… I could just take my clothes off."

"No," he replied quickly. "I mean, unless it's something you don't want torn, that is."

I looked down. I was in a blue cardigan sweater and jeans. Surely he couldn't rip through the jeans. Well, perhaps _he_ could. The bra and panties weren't anything I couldn't replace. I had my overnight bag with a change of clothes.

"It's fine. They're… rippable." Wow, had I really said that? Was that even a word? My mind was flooding over with more pressing thoughts other than to be grammatically correct at this point.

He grinned again… sinister. His stare bore into me. I was like a moth to the flames in his eyes; they drew me in, lulling me out of any trepidation I might have.

"Lie down then." His voice was an octave lower, a hint, commanding, yet soft.

I did as he asked while my recklessness brimmed under the surface of my skin. Monroe reached for my left wrist, raising it over my head. I tilted back as his gaze met mine. Burning red coals replaced his eyes. I didn't recognize this shade at all. It was beyond lust.

He wrapped the little, red rope a few times around my wrist. My pulse accelerated as he maneuvered the knot in place. A small growl escaped him while he tugged on the end, seeming satisfied it was secure. Monroe reached for my other wrist, mirroring the same process. My breathing matched my heart rate as I tried to calm myself.

A quick tug on the second rope and another devilish grin passed his lips. "How does that feel? Not too tight?"

"No, it's fine," I managed to say. My voice was slightly warbled. The ropes were tight, but not uncomfortable. I moved my fingers over the knots. This wasn't so bad. I could reach them and Houdini myself out if I needed to. It wasn't as helpless of a situation as I'd envisioned. My breath relaxed.

Monroe moved to the opposite side of the bed. "I need to get rid of that slack," he said and then took both my ankles in his hands, giving my body a quick jerk down.

My wrists drew taut against the bonds and a wave of unease came over me. Now I couldn't even move my arms, much less reach the knots. That blatant vulnerability and recklessness washed over me in waves, removing all my calm in its deluge. My breath tried to keep up with my heart, which was beating up in my ears.

"Okay, how does that feel?"

I craned my neck toward him. "Umm… Immovable?"

Another devilish grin curved up under his beard. "Even better."

All at once he straddled me, adding to my immobility. A raging ocean of arousal flooded my body.

"That intoxicating bouquet of yours is returning." Monroe's nose twitched. "It's pouring off you like a sexy perfume."

My cheeks flushed hot. God, it was so not fair that he could tell so easily. Monroe hovered over me. My stomach clenched as he studied my reaction.

"Now…" he said, staring longingly at my wrists, "What am I going to do with you?"

My fear crept up at his words. The cage door swung open as Mr. Wolf emerged from his bonds and seemed pleased as punch over mine.

"What do you want to do?" I brazenly replied. My recklessness wanted to emerge, too.

"Oh, I have plans for you tonight," replied Monroe, err, Mr. Wolf. I'm sure my Grimm ancestors were turning over in their graves at this sight. "Glockenspiel." He said the safe word slowly. "Use it if you need to… but only if you absolutely need to."

I nodded as best I could.

Monroe anchored his hips, but moved the rest of his body toward me, pressing his lips firmly against mine. I leaned forward into the kiss, ignoring my predicament. Kisses trailed down my lips to my chin and then dipped down my neck. He nibbled lightly at first, but then he found the sweet spot as he nipped a bit harder. His hands were free to roam over my breasts, which combined with the nipping, jolted a shock all through me.

"Holy hell," I gasped out.

Monroe paused briefly, rising up to smirk. "This is gonna be more fun than I anticipated."

The brevity was just long enough for me to breathe out, then all at once he was back to my neck and those hands were canvassing my body. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. The pleasure was overwhelming. And I still had all my clothes on. Oh, God.

The assault on my neck ceased and I struggled to catch my breath. So did Monroe. His woge was rising under the surface of his skin, itching to burst forth. He was holding back, but a low growl emanated from him regardless of his control. His thighs closed tight around mine and the bulge in his jeans pressed up against me. I pursed my lips as his gaze was still held on my wrists. How much red was visible?

He lifted up the top button of my cardigan. "You're wearing entirely too much." With a single pull, the button popped off like a cork from a bottle of champagne on New Year's Eve. I stifled a gasp as I watched intently.

Another button flew across the room.

Then a third…

He stopped there, folding back the material. His fingers lightly traced over my collarbone down to the edge of my bra.

"So soft, so perfect." It was more of a growl than words. His head lowered as his tongue ran across my flesh and under the edge of lace on my bra. I let out a soft moan.

He traced his tongue upward, hot breaths encircling my ear. "Mine?"

"Always," I replied breathlessly.

"Mine?" he repeated the question more forcefully.

I paused, then stuttered out, "Y-Yours."

"Again," he growled.

"Yours."

"Good girl."

I bit my lip at his words. Holy Fuck. For someone who hadn't done this before, he was hitting all the points. Mr. Wolf rose from my ear and dragged his fingers along my wrists, which were getting a bit numb in this position. His fingers ran down both arms, landing back on my fourth button. It soared over my head.

"Two buttons to go," Mr. Wolf teased as he held the fifth in his… Oh, God. His hands had morphed. Fur and claws replaced his human ones. The reckless part of me hoped the rest would follow suit.

His claws sliced clear through the last two buttons, and with that my cardigan was opened. I shivered with anticipation as his piercing red eyes traveled over my body.

Both clawed hands delicately ran over the slope of my abdomen, leaving light scratches. His tongue swept over where his fingers had been, and I squirmed at the sensations. His hands reached up toward my arms. Loud rips of fabric hit my ears as my top was torn from my body. Wow, he hadn't been kidding. He dusted off the remaining bits from my skin.

Before I could mourn the loss of my cardigan, a claw moved under my bra strap.

"I like the pink lace," he said. "Too bad it's not going to survive."

He adeptly sliced through it. The remaining pieces hung at my side. Who needed scissors when I had Edward Wesen-hands right here? He moved to the other strap, sliding the material deliberately between his fingers so I could watch. The claw cut through it like butter as it fell apart.

"Seems you're liking this, huh?" he said as he looked down.

The bra did little to disguise my erect nipples poking through the fabric. He teasingly tugged at both sides and I waited for him to pull it down… But he didn't. Instead, Mr. Wolf used the side of his claw to circle my breasts. My back arched up reactively. His response was sinister as he continued his torture.

"I think this needs to go," said Mr. Wolf. His trademark grin peeked out under his beard.

A claw hooked in between my breasts, slicing though the center of my bra. I pulled against my bonds in reaction, to which Mr. Wolf gave a short chuckle. The bra was brushed aside, my breasts fully exposed. I held my breath.

Mr. Wolf licked his lips. "Mm-hmm."

The claws had retracted and his fingers lightly flicked over both nipples. I squirmed from the sensitivity, but I was helpless to his touch.

"Having a problem there are we?" he taunted. His words added to my torture. "Tell me you like it."

My eyes widened at him. God, I did like it, but saying it aloud?

"Your tongue isn't tied, just your hands." He continued, teasing my nipples. "Say it," he coaxed.

"I like it." My cheeks burned with the words.

"Good."

His fingers ceased and he leaned down, taking my nipple into his mouth, tongue circling slowly. My head rolled back in ecstasy. He moved to the other one, repeating the process with his tongue, my nipples standing to attention with each lick. My moans were getting louder along with his growls. Pools were forming between my legs. Oh, God I needed him to go down there soon.

Mr. Wolf kissed up my collar bone and he was back on my neck, the nipping almost painful, but the pleasure overshadowed all that.

"Mine," he murmured into my neck, this time it was a statement not a question. His mouth took hold of my lips before I could agree.

I moaned into his mouth, arching my hips up to meet his bulge. Perhaps he'd take the hint. His teeth were sharper, jagged against my mouth. Had he? Was he? Oh, please…

Mr. Wolf lifted his head with fur, large ears, big eyes and all. Oh my! I gasped my breath in at the sight of his woge.

His chest rose and fell as he allowed himself to come out of his humanity. Even in this form, his trademark grin was apparent. My teeth sank hard into my lip as I took in the Wolf. At that moment I was trembling as fear and lust swirled inside me. It was the type of mixture my recklessness relished in, sending an aching need below my waist. Oh, I'd missed him so.

Without a word he moved off me and reached down toward my jeans, biting the button off. Denim shredded under his claws. The Wolf nuzzled his nose between my legs and my back bowed up. Just a thin line of pink fabric kept us apart.

"God, you smell good." That foreign voice came from him amidst the growls. "Good enough to…" he didn't finish the sentence. Instead he pressed my hips down from where they'd risen off the bed. He slipped a claw under the edge of my panties.

"Take them off," I urged as I practically panted out the words.

"Slowly," he replied. "I'll get there soon." He let the lace go.

Oh, it was too much. I wanted him inside me, to take over, to take me however he wanted. I twisted against my bonds. How desperately I wanted to run my hands through his fur. Feel that coarseness against my skin.

His nose brushed up against me again, and I let out a gasp. Clawed hands reached for my panties, ripping them off effortlessly. He tossed them on the floor in an exaggerated manner. The wolf sat back up and he retracted. Monroe closed his eyes tightly, holding in his breath. He sat poised, motionless. When he opened his eyes, he came back to life. Deep breaths pressed out of him.

"Okay, so this is harder than I thought it would be." Harder than what? I didn't want to know.

"Do you want to stop?" I asked in a shaky voice. My recklessness scowled at my question.

"No," his reply was direct as his eyes glared down at me like I'd insulted him. "We aren't stopping."

I gave a half-nod. Monroe lifted his fingers to his plaid shirt, and in a swoop of his wrist, he had it unbuttoned and off. The black undershirt was peeled away, then the jeans and boxers followed suit. I took him in, all naked and still a bit breathless as his chest swelled in and out. Oh, this wasn't right. I wanted to touch him. Run my hands over his body.

Monroe raised my legs up at the knee. He kissed up my ankle all the way up my inner thigh. My skin prickled up under his mouth. That wonderful, sexy mouth.

"God, you're so wet," he said before he'd even reached his lips up that far. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Maybe," I said coyly.

"You aren't fooling anyone." His finger darted between my thighs and my back arched under his touch. "Now answer truthfully."

"Yes," I uttered softly.

"Can't hear you, Renée." He parted my legs further and his thumb stroked up and down.

"You… can… hear me… just fine." My reply staggered out a bit brashly.

His thumb vanished. "You really wanna rethink that response."

Oh, God. Torturous…

I let out a groan. "Yes," I said a bit louder.

"Yes, what?"

Really? He was going to make me say it again?

"Yes… I'm enjoying it."

"Tell how much you like it."

"I-I like it a lot." My sex was pulsing, I was lucky I could say that much.

"That's not using your vocabulary," he replied with a smirk.

"Immensely," I groaned. "I like it immensely."

"Good." His thumb returned and a moan escaped my lips. His rewards were delightful. My eyes slid closed and I melted into the sensation of his fingers moving from slow strokes to faster ones. My hips met each stroke. Oh, I did more than like it. I loved it, loved him, loved…

"And this?" The breath of his voice tickled my eager flesh bringing me out of my thoughts.

"I…" My words were cut off by my teeth closing over my lip and ending in a loud, hard moan as his breath was replaced by his lips and tongue. He held my hips down in his iron grasp.

My arms struggled against the ropes, I wanted… needed my fingers in his hair. Grasping and pushing his head down into me. Monroe's hands held my hips firmly as I struggled to thrust upward to meet his mouth.

My struggles were met with a few clicks of his tongue as he paused.

"Stay still," he breathed between my legs. Exquisite warmth danced over me and I wanted to beg for more, but I knew better than that. "If you stay still, I'll continue."

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

Yes, what? Yes Sir? Yes Master? What the fuck?

"Yes… Mr. Monroe?"

He let out a chuckle. "Good enough."

I stilled my body as his grip relaxed. He moved my legs, widening them apart. He kissed up my thigh and then his tongue dipped back in, all warm and wet. Twirling, swirling, until I was dizzy. Staying still was his new torture. My hands fisted, tensing against the ropes as he continued circling his tongue.

"Don't stop," I gasped out. My orgasm was building… his tongue lapped rhythmically and my eyes rolled back. "Faster," I muttered. Suddenly a sharp pinch dug into my sex and I bucked against him.

"Oh, GOD!" I cried in pain!

I jerked my head up to a catch the glint in his eyes. Had he really nipped… down there? Holy fuck!

Mr. Wolf sneered smugly. "Penalties for rushing me."

"Careful, Monroe," I managed to say.

"I think your recklessness can handle it," he replied. My recklessness could, but I didn't want to lose anything down there. A long lick where he'd bitten had me moaning again, but he left me wanting more. I let out a frustrated groan. He'd stolen my orgasm. Torturous!

I'll let you come soon," he said, as if reading my thoughts, "if you're good." Oh, he knew exactly how close I was. "You know, they say patience is virtue."

The things we were doing tonight were far from virtuous. But I wasn't going to say that aloud. I didn't want any more penalties.

Mr. Wolf kissed upward across my stomach, pausing long enough to tease the skin of my navel with the tip of his nose followed by his tongue. I shifted back and forth trying not to giggle. His hand caressed my cheek and his thumb trailed over my bottom lip. I closed my lips around his thumb before he could get his hand away and sucked it into my mouth.

"I need you," I mumbled around his thumb as my tongue encircled it.

"You'll have me soon enough." His low growl was encouraging and I returned his earlier favor and bit gently. He clicked his tongue again and slid his thumb out slowly as I gave it a few small licks before it was gone.

More kisses trailed dangerously close between my legs then back up to my breasts. Looking down my body and into his upturned crimson eyes I shivered with each additional kiss until he took a nipple into his mouth. I let out another blissful moan that turned into a yelp as his teeth closed upon it. His eyes met mine as he held on. Oh, he was biting back again. Delicious bursts of pleasure and pain surged through me. Monroe's gaze traveled up to my wrists as he let go. He couldn't control it and he had another woge.

"So… difficult," his voice growled.

"Don't hold it back," I begged. The Wolf looked down at me with desire building in his eyes. "Please," I sighed out.

The Wolf moved down to my legs, jutting them outward. His large tongue made contact once more and I groaned with each flick, arching up, desperate for more. My body was on fire as the Wolf adeptly slid his tongue inside and then dipped back out. Oh, I was so close to climax, but just as I was right on the precipice, he withdrew again. I let out an exasperated sigh.

The Wolf straddled me, his fur rubbed against my smooth legs. He planted his hands on either side of me as he leaned his head downward. His hot breath burned at my skin. The ropes twisted as I pulled against them once more. I needed more touching, licking, stroking… anything. He watched me squirm, seemingly amused.

"Take me," I breathed out the words. "Take me like this."

"Don't be demanding," he said. "_You_ are in _no_ position to demand _anything_."

Vulnerability hit me with his words. That delightful, delicious vulnerability as he took over. My recklessness shot out. I was his… his to do whatever he wanted with me. His…

"You're in charge," I nodded, gazing into his eyes; the red ignited me like flames. His mouth met mine; growls tumbled into my parted lips. His Old Spice drifted past my nose, the only reminder that this was still Monroe. The rest of him was gone for now. I tried to move my hips, but he had me trapped. The weight of his body pressed me down hard.

"Please, Mr. Wolf," I murmured between kisses.

His shot up at the words and snarled as he shook his large head.

I locked eyes with him. "Please… Mr. Blutbad," I corrected myself. That Freudian id of his…

"Better," he growled.

His eyes moved back to my wrists again and they narrowed. Eyes fixed on the red, no doubt. He continued to hover over me, grinding his hips against mine. His sex pressed firmly alongside my thigh. I was dizzy with lust, and my teeth bit hard into my lower lip. Too hard. The bittersweet, metallic taste hit my tongue. The Wolf's nose twitched. His eyes immediately focused at my lip. I held my breath as he bent town, lapping at my mouth. I squeezed my eyes shut. Holy crap! My heart raced, pounded while he kissed and licked. His tongue edged down toward my neck, circling my throat. I tilted my head back as my recklessness led me on. I trusted him.

The Wolf's growl reverberated like a rolling thunder against my chest. His mouth replaced his tongue as it took hold. Sharp teeth pierced my flesh as he kissed, pleasure tinged with pain. I let out a moan as I stretched my neck further. But then the pain was taking over…too much. It was hurting. I moved my hands out of instinct, but I couldn't do anything. The combination of sharp pain and a rush of panic hit me. The Wolf wasn't letting up.

"Monroe," I rasped out.

The Wolf clamped down…he wasn't listening. Oh, God. I shut my eyes tighter as the bursts of pain swelled behind them. Claws moved down my legs, forcing them wide open as he slid inside. He thrust his hips quickly while his mouth never wavered from my neck. It was too much, all too much. Fear took over and I bucked against him.

My recklessness surged up while my brain was half-screaming to keep going, half-screaming to say the safe word. This wasn't safe... Oh, but what part of our relationship ever was? Maybe I'd just pass out before…

He thrust in harder and I jerked back to consciousness. The thrusts continued to fill me and I concentrated on the pleasure below my waist. My reckless woge seized hold and the lust returned in full swing. Instead of begging to stop, I moaned instead. Wonderful waves rippled through me as he slid inside all the way to the hilt. His tongue glided over where he'd bitten. The pain dulled ever so slightly and I let the calm wash over me. He moved in and out, slowing down the rhythm.

"Mine," he growled out near my ear. "Say it," he commanded.

"Yours." I drew out the word as I sunk into bliss. "All yours."

The Wolf rocked back and forth as I came close to climax. His pace quickened, but then the teeth returned, harder this time and I gasped loudly, all the while fighting against the ropes so I could reach for him and pull his mouth away.

My muscles tensed under him as my orgasm hit me, colors burst behind my eyes and the room spun as my body shook. Nothing mattered, the pain stopped and just the surge of him inside me was all that remained. He came loudly, letting go of my neck to howl out as we crashed together.

I was losing consciousness again. The colors dissipated as blackness enveloped me. But then pain hit me once more as his teeth took hold of my neck. I jolted… Snarls and growls flooded my ears.

"Monroe, stop! Please!" I pressed the words as they came out in rasps. My recklessness urged me to endure, but I couldn't. The pain was all consuming. It had to stop. Too much…

"Glocken…" His clawed hand clasped over my mouth to keep me from finishing. Short breaths escaped my nose and I was faint. Hot liquid poured down my neck. "Glockenspiel!" I found my voice to scream, but his hand firmly covered my mouth, muffling my cries. That word didn't matter anymore.

I moved my legs around, trying to kick him off me, but it didn't deter him. He growled louder under my neck, lapping and biting. With all my might I hit him hard in his lower backbone with my heel.

His teeth let go as he leapt back with a howling groan and reached for his spine. I pressed my legs into the mattress and quickly shimmied up the bed. Within seconds I had the knots loose and my hands free. Monroe didn't move and he wasn't retracting. He stood at the foot of the bed gasping in breaths with his mouth bloody and agape. Red, burning eyes stared me down like he was going to pounce on me again. I reached for my neck, which was stabbing with pain. When I let it go, I glanced down to the blood covering my palm and then to the sheets. There was a whole lot of blood on the sheets. My eyes shot back up at him.

"I'm sorry," he said in a mountainous voice. "It was… overwhelming. Too intense…"

It was all I could do to breathe. My recklessness was retreating, leaving me empty like a shell. My head was so light. I leaned back against the tall headboard, wanting to just let myself go…Let the darkness take over. But I was too afraid to shut my eyes, too afraid to look away from him.

Finally he retracted. He put his hands to his mouth, rubbing away the blood. He came toward me and I tensed. He shook his head as he paused, resting at the edge of the bed. Clocks ticking filled the void in the room.

"I'm sorry," he softly said again after what seemed like forever. It was Monroe… his voice returning. With all my might I pulled myself together, moving toward him and reaching for his shoulders with shaking hands. My forehead rested against the back of his hair as I willed myself to relax. Fast breaths were replaced by slower ones. Monroe put a hand over mine.

"It stopped. It's fine." My voice quavered.

"Yeah, barely."

I tensed again. Barely? Fuck…

"I'm sorry I kicked you…there. Are you okay?"

"You're the one bleeding all over the place and you're asking me if I'm okay?" He shook his head as it drooped down. "Oh man…" he sighed.

I rubbed his shoulders, but then I halted when I looked down. I was getting blood all over him.

Quickly I slipped off the bed as my feet worked to support my body. "I'm gonna… I'm, uh, just gonna go get cleaned up," I mumbled out as I wobbled myself to the bathroom.

I locked the door behind me and braced myself against the sink. Raising my head, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. My chest was covered in blood and my neck was bruised under the deep bite. It was still bleeding. This one was worse than the ones in Kentucky. Maybe he was a vampire after all. No, there were more than just two holes in my neck. Quite a few more than just two. I turned on the sink, splashing cool water on my face. Just breathe. Breathe. I pushed the calm forward as I took in more breaths.

Monroe knocked on the door. "Are you okay?" He tried the doorknob. "Renée, why did you lock it?"

"I'll be out soon," I replied, not answering his questions. I glanced down to my wrists, which were bruised and indented from where I'd strained against the ropes. Long claw marks ran down my legs. Great, just great.

I managed to get in the shower. The cool water hit me as I washed off the blood. The bite stung under the water, and the pain shot through my neck. I let out a groan.

"Are you seriously okay?" Monroe called out.

"I'll be out soon," I replied again. Super hearing. I'd have to keep my pain silent.

I took my time, stuck in my own thoughts. What the hell happened in there? Would he have stopped if I hadn't kicked him? Dear, God. I trusted him, but then again, maybe there were too many temptations at once. And the red… Why couldn't he have bought a white rope like a normal person? I shook my head and let out a laugh. Yeah, like buying rope was just so normal anyway. Well, I'd had my taste of BDSM, and it was safe to say I'd lost my appetite. There was too much of a loss of control. But Monroe still had some control, right? Of course he did. I mean, if he didn't then, well… I drowned out the thoughts as I hummed Nazareth.

_"Love hurts, love scars.__  
__Love wounds, and marks.__  
__I really learned a lot,__  
__Really learned a lot.__  
__Love is like a flame,__  
__It burns you when it's hot.__  
__Ooh, ooh,__  
__Love hurts…"_

My neck stung again as I lathered up. Nazareth wasn't talking about physical pain, but I sure was.

"Umm, why are you humming that song?" He jiggled the door knob again. "Can you just, umm, let me in for a second?"

"Monroe, I'll be out soon, okay?" I replied weakly.

Okay, so no humming either. I reached for my neck, suppressing my agony as I cleansed it. The wounds would heal. I'd regenerate. The Waldgeist side of me would repair the bite marks on my neck in a few days. But the trust… Maybe my grandmother was right. No. I wasn't going down that path. This wasn't his fault. I'd practically begged for him to continue his woge. I'd wanted him that way. Well, my recklessness wanted it, at least. But I'd pushed too hard… and then I bit my lip. The blood. God, how stupid! I guess the Boy Scout wasn't prepared for that one. Well, he'd earned a merit badge tonight, all right. He didn't kill me. That deserved an award, for sure.

I finished my shower and dabbed at the bite. Blood seeped out, soaking the tissue. I rummaged around the bathroom until I found a bandage. There, at least that would help keep the blood from going everywhere. I dried my hair, taking great care to position it over the bite. He didn't need to see it.

I wrapped my towel around me and unlocked the bathroom door. Monroe wasn't in the bedroom when I entered. The sheets had been removed from the bed, replaced with new ones. A small piece of red rope was hanging out of the wastebasket by the dresser. Probably the best place for it. I located my overnight bag and dressed quickly. If only I had brought a turtleneck. I had one at home I could wear tomorrow.

I lay down on the clean sheets and stared up at the ceiling. Closing my eyes briefly, I breathed in and out with the ticks of the clocks. They beat together perfectly. Monroe had made sure each one was in sync with the others when we set them. So meticulous. They were relaxing with their methodical beat.

The door creaked slightly and I rolled over. Monroe stood by the door. He'd already showered and was wearing a denim shirt and jeans along with a fresh application of Old Spice.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course you can," I replied while sitting up. "Don't be silly."

He crossed the room and slowly reached for my face, kissing me hard. I tensed in spite of myself.

"Let me see," he said against my mouth.

"No," I murmured. "You don't need to."

Monroe let my lips go. "I need to see what I did to you," he insisted while still holding on to my shoulders.

I put a hand to my neck. "It'll be gone in a few days, so no sense worrying about it."

Monroe shook his head as his hands dropped to his sides, and he slumped down in front of me. "This was supposed to be sexy and fun, you know?"

"It was… Up until…" I glanced down at the bed.

"God, Renée…" He took my hands in his, running his thumbs across my bruises. "I'd never hurt you. And I…" I looked up into his tear-filled brown eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"It was just too much. We overdid it," I replied. "I think we've discovered a hard limit," I added with an awkward chuckle. "Biting is bad."

Monroe let out a breath as he shook his head. "Love hurts, huh?"

"Huh?" I blinked slowly. Love? We were saying love? Oh, not now. Not after this.

"The song you were humming. So, umm…"

Oh, right. Nazareth. Crap…

"It was just a song, Monroe. It was just what came to mind for a moment."

"I'd never hurt you," he repeated. "Not purposely."

"I played with fire asking you not to hold back, and well, you didn't hold back. Lesson learned and we move on, right?"

"Yeah," Monroe breathed out with a shake of his head. "Lesson learned."

I edged off the bed. "I'm going to go downstairs for a bit. You wanna join me?"

"Nah, I think I'm just gonna stay up here awhile."

I ran my hand through his wild, curly hair and kissed the top of his head. "Okay. Well, if you change your mind I'll be on the couch."

Monroe nodded. "I'll come down later."

I closed the bedroom door behind me and headed down the stairs.

My thoughts wandered again while I got comfortable on the couch. As I curled my legs under me, I turned on the TV. Pain radiated down my neck. I needed distractions. On the TV screen Michelle Pfeiffer and Jack Nicholson were in a hotel room. Jack Nicholson was chained in handcuffs to a radiator and was trying to explain to Michelle Pfeiffer how dangerous he was at night. I pressed the info button. _Wolf_. Of course it was. I sighed. Oh, cable. Why do you hate me so much? I shook my head as I watched a few moments.

"Why do you want any of this nightmare?" asked Jack.

"You mean instead of the gaiety of my normal life?" Michelle smirked back up at him as she tried to take the handcuffs off. "I don't know. Because I like you. Because you're a good man, and that's very exotic to me. I never thought I'd meet a good man who looked at me the way you do."

Jack shook his head. "You don't know I'm a good man."

"Yes. I do."

"Then why is this happening?" he asked pensively. "I thought only the _evil _were cursed," he added in a darkened tone.

"No. Not at all," Michelle laughed. "I could've told you that. The worst things happen to the best people."

Monroe was a good man…. a wonderful man. But the creature he was wasn't because of a curse. It was just… Well, it was just who he was; a Blutbad. And I wasn't. We were different. Very different. Regardless of everything, I loved him. Maybe I was as crazy as Michelle Pfeiffer was, but my heart knew what it wanted. Lesson learned, move on, and don't get tied up again. At least not with red rope, my recklessness reminded me. Yeah, that was a given. Maybe what Michelle Pfeiffer said was true. Maybe bad things happen to good people. If that were true I was the best person on Earth. I shook my head and went to the kitchen. I needed a drink.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Two glasses of wine later I hadn't turned the channel yet. By the time Jack Nicholson was fighting on the ground with the other werewolf to save Michelle Pfeiffer, I'd had enough. My thoughts went back to the night of stargazing. Just like Jack Nicholson, Monroe hadn't hesitated to protect me, either. I'd watched this kind of scene before with both Blutbaden struggling on the grass in the night, growling and snarling. If the movies only knew how close to real life they'd gotten it. I shook my head. It wasn't the first time Monroe had taken a man down on my behalf. He'd fought with my ex in my backyard, and while that one wasn't much of an even fight as the one with the Blutbad, it'd still proven that he'd do anything for me.

Jack Nicholson threw the other werewolf into a set of stairs, and turned to walk away. Just as the werewolf was about to leap back out at him, Michelle Pfeiffer pulled out a gun and shot the other werewolf repeatedly in the chest. She didn't seem to know about Alpha dominance, either. If I'd had a gun that night instead of an umbrella, I might have done the same thing. That realization scared me a little.

* * *

A/N: Whew! Okay. So still with me? Good... Maybe Monroe could handle red outside, but clearly the constant red on Renée's wrists and blood was not a good combo, huh?

Never seen the movie, _Wolf_? I highly recommend it! (Sorry for spoilers, but it was out in 1994. LOL!)

2 more chapters today.

**Edit:** For those who have hinted, I've written an addendum to this chapter from Monroe's POV. It's titled "After the Red Ropes Fell: Monroe's Story." It starts after Renée leaves to go downstairs. Kinda gives the reader some more insight into Monroe's thoughts, feelings, etc... Go check it out. (:


	62. Chapter 62

**Chapter 62**

I'd given up on TV and had resolved to read Jane Austen's _Sense and Sensibility_, of which I had neither. Perhaps I'd learn a thing or two. I missed my copy at home, but my trusty Kindle app was handy and readily available to download whatever I wanted on a whim. By chapter ten, I was done with reading about Marianne taking up with the young and handsome Willoughby and tossing poor Colonel Brandon like an old hat. I turned off my Kindle app and looked toward the stairwell. It was awfully quiet up there. It had been a couple of hours and Monroe should've come downstairs by now. What was he doing? I set my cell phone on the coffee table, finished my glass of wine, and gradually walked upstairs.

The bedroom door was still closed. I slowly opened it, but Monroe wasn't in there. The bathroom door was closed and the light illuminated from the crack under the door. I lay down on the bed. He'd be out soon enough. My eyes drifted over to a tan leather book that set on the nightstand on Monroe's side. He must have been reading, too. The book had no markings on the front. I touched a finger to the smooth, worn exterior. This one had been read many times. What was it? I gingerly picked it up, expecting history or science, but no, it was handwriting… Monroe's handwriting.

**_January 25th 2012 -_**_  
__She returned for the cuckoo. That smell… Her scent. The vanilla is still everywhere, I can't get it out of my nose. Maybe I shouldn't have asked her to the symphony. What the hell am I thinking asking her out? And that look she gave me. I can't read her. Those lips of hers kill me. I wanted to take her right in my living room. Fuck her hard, claim her. What the fuck am I saying?_

My eyes widened as I continued to flip pages.

**_January 31st 2012 -_**_  
__I don't know how I survived being in her home again. Her smell, everywhere. Her hands on me. It's still clinging to my clothes, my skin. I wanted her to continue, so bad. I wanted to reciprocate. Why didn't I just take her? I wanted to take her… rip her clothes right off that perfect skin. Take her right on her couch. The desire is too much. Days off will be good._

**_February 2nd 2012 -_**_  
__She's in my brain and she won't leave. Her cloying scent remains on my jacket. I can smell it from here. Nick won't shut the hell up. I don't know what's worse, him nagging or the nagging of her in my brain. Need to concentrate. I'll just go over to her house, take her, fuck her, and then… No. Dammit! I don't want that. I want more… But it would be so easy._

**_February 4th 2012 -_**_  
__That damn song. If she only knew how inappropriate that damn Duran Duran song is. But she can't know. She'll never know. But when she played for me today. Her music…That violin. She plays like an angel. And she wants me. She was fucking turned on while I played the cello. The arousal flooded out of her. That overwhelming urge. The lingering scent in my house… Dammit, I should've at least kissed her… No, then I'll want more. But I do want more. More of everything. FUCK!_

**_February 12th 2012 -_**_  
__Man, I wanted to fucking rip her ex's throat out last night. How I refrained I'll never know. The rage is still in me, coursing through me. But then I think of her. She wants me. I want her. Adores me? She was drunk. I can't believe her words… But maybe they're true? I want her to be mine and I can't hold out much longer…Mine? It's stupid. Preposterous! Oh man! I need to bow out. No, I don't want that either. Maybe a movie tonight. A movie is easy, non-committal. Note: Nick still owes me $300. I'm never getting that back. Maybe I should've kept some of that gallenblase after all._

"OH, MY GOD!" Monroe's voice echoed, high and shrill in the bedroom, and I shot up quickly. I hadn't heard him open the bathroom door. "You can't read that!" He rushed toward me, removing the book swiftly from my hands. "How much did you read? What part?" he bellowed with red eyes flaring. "This is, like, personal… stuff… I…"

My face flushed. "I thought it was a history book, but then it was…"

"It's not _that_ kinda history book." Monroe shook his head, clutching the leather to his chest. His breath practically heaved out as his eyes bulged. "This is off limits." He shoved the book in the nightstand drawer, shutting it abruptly.

"I'm sorry." I bit my top lip while looking down. Too nosy.

"So, how much did you read?" Growling replaced most of the words as he gripped my shoulders.

My head shot up. "Just a few entries," I gasped out. The panic hit me again full force. There was panic in his eyes, too. What the hell was in there he was so afraid of?

"Which entries?" he persisted.

"January and February when we were… " I only managed to get part of it out. The words caught in my throat. I couldn't breathe. He loomed over me, eyes hot and burning as he pinned my shoulders back against the headboard.

"Did you like what you read?" A glint passed through the fire in his eyes.

"I-I…" Did I like it? Shocked was more like it, but I couldn't let him know that. "I… really didn't read enough to make that judgment."

"Don't lie."

I stared directly into his eyes. "It was wrong to read it."

Monroe let up, and oxygen refilled my lungs as I held my pounding chest.

"Yeah, it kinda was." Monroe crossed his arms. "MP3 player."

"What?"

"Go get it and hand it over. I'm listening to every damn song." My chest tightened again for a whole other reason.

"No, now that's different…"

"Yeah, it's different all right. It's not even your own words. But it's as close as I'm gonna get."

I sat up, straightening my back. My stomach formed a knot, tightening to the point of nausea.

"Go get it." Monroe repeated in an octave lower as he glared at me. "I'm not joking."

I edged out of the bed and shuffled over to the stairs. Each step was like walking toward a death sentence. Too nosy for my own good. Clearly I'd learned nothing from Jane Austen. I obviously had no sense whatsoever.

I moved to the cedar chest and opened my shoulder bag. The MP3 player weighed a million pounds in my hand. I pushed out a sigh and then pursed my lips to prevent any more from forming. Well, at least none of my songs mentioned claiming him. But the songs… Oh, who was I kidding? I loved him, and it was all there. If it wasn't clear already, then he was more oblivious than I ever thought possible.

I moved back toward the stairs, hovering at the bottom. But what did loving him mean? What was really going on inside that head of his? My curiosity was augmented by my reckless spirit. It was wrong, but I wanted to read that whole book. I wanted to understand, to know what he really wanted to do to me, especially after what had happened just hours ago. Oh, it was too much, too damn much.

I ambled back upstairs. My eyes met Monroe's as I walked into the bedroom. He hadn't moved. Arms still crossed, along with his expression.

"Hand it over." He uncrossed his arms, holding his open palm out to me. I walked forward and laid the MP3 player in the flat of his hand.

"Now all those songs…"

"I'll figure it out." He cut me off. "Which one is mine?"

"The one not labeled."

A snort escaped him and he shook his head. "Can't label it, huh? Why doesn't that surprise me?" He idly tossed my MP3 player back and forth in his hands.

"I'm sorry," I said again.

"You wanna know something, you ask me. Leave the books alone." Was he referring to his journal or were we back to Nick's books? I nodded regardless. "I'll give this back to you when I'm done with it."

"That's fine." I kept my face smooth, but my stomach was forming knots on top of knots. "So are we okay?"

"I'll tell you later." He put my MP3 player in his pocket. "Grimms," he muttered and went out the bedroom door toward the stairs. I held back another sigh as I followed.

As I reached the living room, Monroe was already hooking up the MP3 player to his stereo.

"Oh, so you're doing this right now?" I asked. "What do you expect to gain from my playlist that you don't already know?"

He didn't reply. Buttons were pressed and shortly after Fiona Apple was crooning 'Paper Bag.' I held on to the back of the couch. Monroe cupped his chin in his hands as Fiona sung the tale of hopeless love.

"That was downloaded for the chorus," I mumbled under the tune. "And it was before…"

"I'll figure it out," he said again.

He wasn't going to figure it out. The songs didn't tell a story from beginning to end. Some did, but most wouldn't make sense if I didn't break apart each one. Oh, this was not good at all. Fiona began the chorus as he listened.

"_Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills,__  
__'Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up.__  
__I got to fold 'cause these hands are too shaky to hold.__  
__Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love…"_

Monroe didn't stir. He seemed too absorbed in the words, staring at the stereo as if the singer was standing right in front of him, telling him my thoughts. I stood silent, waiting for him to say something, anything. Fiona ended and Cat Stevens began as my heart stopped briefly.

"_How can I tell you that I love you, I love you.__  
__But I can't think of right words to say.__  
__I long to tell you that I'm always thinking of you.__  
__I'm always thinking of you, but my words,__  
__Just blow away, just blow away…"_

Monroe remained stoic. Oh, that Scorpio could hold in every emotion on command. Cat Stevens continued strumming my pain with his fingers, singing my life with his words. I understood that 'Killing Me Softly' song now. My face flushed as I crossed the room to the cedar chest. I couldn't stay here and listen to this. Monroe was upset and he had every right to be. It was best if I just went home. Today had been a mess already, and I just needed to go home and put it behind me for tonight. I grabbed my jacket and bag.

"Please call me tomorrow," I said over the music. Monroe remained fixed on the stereo, never batting an eyelash. As I closed the door, my tears fell and I trudged to the car, letting out the sigh I'd been suppressing.

* * *

A/N: Taking a flashback to _Sweaters are a Girl's Best Friend_... So, we're seeing some of Monroe's thoughts from his journal when he and Renée were first hanging out.

Renée isn't perfect. She has flaws. Nosiness is one of them. This time she went over a line. Seems that playlist of hers is going to finally be heard. And not the way she wanted it to... Yikes!

This chapter pushed the envelope a bit. My editor's thoughts about Monroe's reaction to the journal were taken into consideration and I actually toned it down. (It was far rougher than this in the previous draft... I know, right?) It's not easy to go from one extreme to the next... But this book is about extremes and there will be more extremes later on, too.

Just trust me and follow along.

One more chapter today...


	63. Chapter 63

**Chapter 63**

PowerPoints didn't help clear my thoughts when I got home. I held my hand against my re-bandaged neck as the pain lingered. We'd hurt each other today in more ways than one. I didn't want to think about my MP3 player. How many songs were on his list now? A hundred, two-hundred? Too many, that was for sure.

My nosiness went over the line this time. I should've closed that damn book as soon as I saw the handwriting. But those words. The things he wanted to do to me so early on. Wow. What had he written about tonight? Maybe it was too much to know. But it was his private thoughts that I didn't need to be reading. Ignorance was bliss, and right now I wanted to go back to being dumb and happy.

I shook my head and set my laptop down on the couch and went to the kitchen for a glass of wine. I held the merlot in my hands. No, I needed something harder than wine. I opened the fridge and glanced at the bottle of tequila next to the jug of milk. Yeah, that would do.

A knock on my door stopped me mid-pour. I set the tequila bottle down and went back to the living room. Maybe Monroe was done listening already. I opened the door quickly, but it wasn't Monroe. A short man in a tan coat was awkwardly smiling at me as he held out a basket. I took a step back.

"May I help you?" I asked while gripping the door.

"Hi there. Uh, I'm sorry to disturb you, umm, so late at night," Basket Man stammered out. "You must be Renée Davenport, right?"

I looked at him suspiciously, but the pressed smile on his face was genuine.

I nodded slowly. "Umm, and you are?"

"Oh, right! So sorry! My name's Bud… Bud Wurstner. I came over to here to… Uhh… apologize. I mean, not for what I did, but… Well, for what happened a couple of weeks ago." He shook his head quickly as he continued to ramble. "Nick, uh, you know, Nick the Grimm?" he whispered the words. "He came over to discuss my friend's wife… Umm… following you." He looked down solemnly.

His friend's wife must have been Price-Tag Lady. Had Sandra given her my name, too? She hadn't mentioned that part of their conversation. I scowled internally.

"We mean you no harm, really," he looked up with pleading eyes as he continued. "And I'm so sorry it happened. We're all sorry it happened." He held up the basket. "My wife, Phoebe, made this for you. It's cherry. She makes the best cherry pies."

I hesitantly took the basket. "Thank you?" I asked rather than said.

"Nick says that he won't kill us, so since you and Nick, umm, know each other, I hope you feel the same way. We really don't want any trouble, and I promised Nick that this won't be happening again. I promise you, too."

"I'm not going to kill anyone," I replied bleakly. Was I really having this conversation on my porch? I needed that drink now.

"Good, good, good," he said with a smile and clasped his hands together. "Thank you so much. I really mean it." He did a little bow at me as he had a woge into a Beaver.

"Well, thanks for coming by… and for this," I said and held up the basket slightly. "I'd turn the light on so you could see the steps, but my porch light is broken."

"Oh, I can fix that!" he exclaimed as his face brightened. "I'm great at fixing things." He moved toward my porch light before I could say another word. "Well, maybe I can come back this week during the day and I'll have that working for you in no time. It's the least I can do for what happened."

"No, that's not necessary," I replied.

"No, I want to. Really! And if there's anything else I can do, you name it. I mean it, anything!"

"No, you don't need to do anything," I said a bit more curtly than I'd intended. "I'm going to go back inside now. Thank you. Have a good night."

I closed the door and locked it before Bud the Basket Man could say anything else. Glancing down at the pie, I shook my head. I set the basket down on my coffee table and located my phone.

"Burkhardt," said Nick.

"Bud the Eisbiber was just at my door bearing gifts. Do you know anything about that?"

Nick sighed. "Yeah, he left my place a half hour ago. Juliette was right behind me, and I had to figure out something to tell her. So, did you get a blanket, too?"

"No, a cherry pie."

"Hmm… A pie would've been better."

"So, why did he come here?"

Nick told me he'd confronted Bud and his friend about Price-Tag Lady stalking me a few days after I'd called him about the incident. "I guess they wanted to apologize."

"He says he's coming back to fix my porch light. Nick, is this guy safe?"

"Yeah, he's harmless. He mentioned fixing my door sometime, too."

"Okay, but it's just strange having a guy show up with desserts in the middle of the night."

"Well, at least you didn't have to explain it to anyone. Or was Monroe there with you?"

"No, he's at home… listening to music," I sighed.

"Everything okay with you two?"

"Yeah, we're fine. I won't keep you. I just wanted to make sure this guy was who he said he was."

"Yeah, and as far as I can tell he's all right."

"Thanks, Nick. Have a good night."

I looked back at the basket as I hung up the phone. Cherry pie and tequila. Any other time that combination would sound disgusting, but tonight I was gonna make it work.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

The knock on my front door awoke me with a start. Three in the morning. Who the hell was at my door this late at night? If it was another Eisbiber, I was going to have a serious talk with them. I rose slowly and staggered to the living room. I was still a little drunk. Monroe was pacing on my porch through my peephole. I opened the door quickly.

"Monroe?" He moved past me without responding.

"Okay, so I've been up all night listening to this." His eyes were red, but not in the usual way. They were bloodshot and rimmed with tears. He pulled out my MP3 player. "So am I a monster to you?"

"What?" I rubbed my eyes, trying to comprehend. "A monster? Of course not."

Monroe shook his head. "So, there's these songs about taking you down, then there was a song about tearing you apart." He continued to pace inside. "I mean, most of the songs made sense, like, you know, I got the gist. But then mixed in were these lyrics of, like, something altogether… like, evil, dude." His eyes widened. "And then there were rap songs. You actually listen to rap music?"

Holy crap. Were we going to do this tonight?

"Monroe, I download songs when I get feelings," I began. "Sometimes there's one line that hits me. You can't interpret them word for word. Most times it's just feelings I have in passing."

"But, dude… A few songs were all about, like, literally fucking you like a beast or an animal or… well, both." He let out a sigh and the pacing ceased. "I mean, what happened tonight was kinda like… Oh, God. I mean, you can't think that I'm…" His eyes were sorrowful, puppy dog eyes as he turned them toward me.

"Monroe, I don't think that, okay? But perhaps I felt inclined to download a few songs after Kentucky." I looked down at my feet as I tottered to the couch. My face was hot and the knots in my stomach reappeared. This was awful. I wasn't prepared to defend my playlist in the middle of the night and definitely not while I was half asleep and still a bit drunk. All those songs listened to in one sitting? What must he think of me right now?

"But Kentucky was just… Renée, it was a mixture of instinct and lack of control. You know that's not me, well, umm, not the _me _that I want to be. I mean, I'm sure I didn't give you such a great display of that tonight, but still."

I looked up from the couch as he paced in front of me again.

"So, you don't want to fuck me and claim me?" I boldly asked.

"Okay, now that…" he paused, glaring down at me. "Those words were pent up, amalgamations of, you know, just my nature coming out. That's what journals are for. Now whatever you may or may not have read… It's my way of getting things out."

"What about mating with me? Were those just words, too?" I was being super bold.

"Those damn Grimm books," Monroe growled. "See, there it is again. You said you didn't remember that night after the tequila." He sniffed the air. "Have you been drinking tequila again tonight? And why do I smell cherry pie?"

"Yes, I had a few shots of tequila, and the pie is a long story. And as for your other question, I never said I forgot everything about that night at the trailer."

"I gotta be able to trust what you're telling me."

"And you need to stop leaving things out," I blurted back. "Sorry, but I'm still just a bit drunk."

"Look, I really want to talk about that, but every time I try, something happens. It needs to be said properly, but not here tonight, in…" He looked me over. "Are you wearing flannel?"

I glanced down at my PJs. Crap, he wasn't supposed to see these.

"Umm, yes."

"Okay, well it doesn't need to be said when you're drunk and in flannel." He seemed lost in thought, but then resumed. "Anyway, so what you read and what we did… God, Renée, I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you. And yeah, I kinda jumped some steps and took advantage of the situation in the woods. But you said you were mine, and that… well, that triggered it. Saying you were mine means something to Blutbaden, like, completely unlike anything in human terms. You gave yourself to me, and I was happy to take you."

Take me? Holy hell. What the fuck did I do?

"I didn't know. How could I know?"

"I realize you didn't know, but I couldn't help myself. And maybe that wasn't right, but in the heat of the moment it was." He turned my MP3 player over in his palm a few times. "And with what I've heard tonight on this thing, you seem to want this just as badly as I do."

"Of course I want you. I adore you, Monroe. But in the woods, I-I was just letting go of inhibitions and… I didn't know that meant anything else than words… Than just saying I was yours." I looked up at him. "I want to be yours."

Monroe growled as he ran a hand through his wild, curly hair. "Even you just saying it now… You don't know what that does to me." His eyes flared a deep crimson.

I dropped my hands in my lap. "Well, then explain it so I can understand, Monroe."

Monroe collapsed on the couch beside me. "Blutbaden have instincts, you know? Needs, desires, man. I may be reformed, but some of those inner workings… well, they aren't as, umm... reformable as everything else." He reached for my hand. "And you saw that tonight; those inner workings with you being all tied up, and the red, and you holding your neck out to me. Man, I tried holding back, but then when the blood hit your lip, I couldn't… I just couldn't…" He shook his head. "But back to my point. Blutbaden mate, we have traditions… We have our own ways of doing things. Saying you're mine is like saying… Well, it's like you're giving yourself over, committing to me. It's like the highest form of…" He stopped and shook his head again as it hung down.

I leaned back into the couch. "I don't know all these rules, Monroe."

He huffed out a sigh. "Yeah, well, you aren't going to get them from a book either, lemme tell ya."

I reached for his arm. "Monroe, I invaded your privacy tonight, and I'm so sorry about that."

Monroe moved toward me, kissing my forehead. "I want to trust you, I need to trust you. But you have to trust me, too. And I know I did a poor job of earning that trust tonight, but you still have to. I need you to, Renée."

"You know I trust you." I wanted to, at least. But he was right. Tonight was just… Oh, I just needed to stop thinking about it. "I want to know what I'm getting into, but then I'm afraid of what I might find out. So…"

Monroe smirked. "Then you must not have read too much."

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

I met his eyes. Those sad eyes that no amount of smirking could hide. "Are we okay? Do you forgive me?"

"Yeah, of course." He held my gaze. "Do you forgive me?"

I nodded slowly.

"Just promise you'll leave that book alone. I need to know I have a place I can write my feelings down that's just for me, you know? I'm working on a lot of things right now. That's why I'm going to my meetings and why we aren't off running through the woods anymore." He looked directly at me. "I want us to work out. We can make this work."

"But what if I enjoy the woods, too?" I shook my head. "I know I shouldn't…"

"Oh man…" Monroe reached for his temple. "Yeah, well, that's not safe in the long run. And neither are ropes for that matter," Monroe scoffed.

"Right. I know they aren't safe. But the woods… When we're out there running, it's…" Oh, I was too sleepy and drunk for this. "Even tonight with the rope, before the biting. When you take control. God, that just does something crazy to me. That domination, that Alpha, that…"

Monroe stared hard with his brown eyes tinged red, but I didn't finish my thought. I really didn't have to.

"It's not the only part of me you like, right?"

"No, not at all." I reached for his hands as I kept my eyes on him. "But I can't deny I like it." That was putting it mildly. Dammit, too sleepy and drunk to have this kind of talk with him.

"Yeah, from some of those song choices it's kinda obvious."

"I want us to work, too. But I don't want you to lose yourself because of it. There has to be a balance; a way you can be who you are without being… entirely who you are." A balance of two worlds. The Justice card crept back in my thoughts.

"Maybe we'll get there eventually, but right now it's better if I'm just, you know, a clockmaker."

I nodded slowly. "Okay, Mr. Clockmaker. I understand."

He gave me a half-smile and handed me my MP3 player. "Some of those songs I really liked."

I tried not to blush, but my cheeks burned. "I don't want to hear any more about this playlist," I said while setting the MP3 player on the coffee table. "While it may not be my own words, it's as much a private thing as your book is."

Monroe nodded. "So, now we're even," he grinned.

"Okay, even." I leaned in to kiss him. Monroe wrapped his arms around me. "So are you staying tonight?"

"I don't have a change of clothes, but I could manage. Do you want me to stay after what happened?"

"Yeah. What happened wasn't on purpose, right?"

"God, no! Of course not," Monroe quickly replied as his eyes widened. "Renée, I already told you, it was just a combination of things, and I would never purposefully do anything like that, ever."

"Then stay. It won't be for very long. Six o'clock will be here in a few hours."

"Are you working in the morning?"

"Working from home, but I'm going to go Zen out at Tao tomorrow. I've got to finish my PowerPoints for this week, and I seem to get more accomplished there."

"Too bad. I'm sure we could find some things here to do tomorrow that would Zen you out just fine."

I grinned up at him. "What you have in mind won't get my work done."

"No, but it's quite fun nonetheless," Monroe grinned under his beard. "And, you know, besides, we need to have some nice, gentle make-up sex without any strings attached, if you know what I mean."

* * *

A/N: So, a surprise visit from Bud. I imagine Bud's wife in a cute apron, making cakes and pies from sun up to sundown. LOL!

And Monroe got an eye opener of his own on Renée's music choices. Granted the songs weren't mentioned, so I'll add a few here to give you an idea.

NIN's "Closer"  
Metalica's "Of Wolf and Man"  
She Wants Revenge's "Tear You Apart"  
WASP's "Animal"  
Kid Rock's "So Hott"

Yeah, poor Monroe... So secrets revealed on both sides, but still no "L" word yet. But after all this, the "L" word would've been a bit strained, I think.

Stopping here today. Hope you're still with me, dear readers. Comments always appreciated. Interested to see if I pushed the envelope too much with this.

We'll be getting back to Grimm story mode in the next few chapters.

STAY TUNED FOR MORE!


	64. Chapter 64

**Chapter 64**

The Tao of Tea had a closed sign when I walked up to the main door. Renovations? Well, crap. A hot mug of rose almond tea would've gone well with the newest PowerPoint I had to complete. Dodging raindrops, I walked back to my Malibu and slumped back into the driver's seat. No peaceful Zen for me today. Guess I'd actually have to work from home instead. However, I was still craving some tea.

There was a spice and tea shop nearby in the Pearl District that I'd shopped in a few times before. It was owned by a Fuchsbau named Freddy Calvert. (I was getting better at learning names.) Unlike most Foxes I'd met, Freddy was more demure. He still acted flirty, as was his nature, but he wasn't as suave and sophisticated about it, like Mr. Foxy Loxy, for example. Although he wasn't entirely genuine, I'd liked him immediately. Freddy might have some tea I could make at home.

I pulled out of the parking lot and drove from Northwest Everett Street toward Fulton Street to the Exotic Spice and Tea Shop. When I arrived, I was happy to find a parking spot right out front.

As I walked in, I bumped into Adalind, who was headed toward the door to leave.

"Renée!" She regarded me with her blue eyes wide. "Well, this is a pleasant surprise."

"It is," I replied with a smile. "How are you?"

"Good. Just on my way home." She paused, and then with a raised eyebrow she asked, "What brings you here today?"

"I'm craving a good cup of tea and Freddy has a great selection." I beamed over at Freddy, whose eyes were just as wide as he watched us both. "So do you come here for the tea or the spices?" I asked Adalind.

"The… spices," she said hesitantly and gave me and awkward chuckle. "I have baking to do for the party and for that guy I told you about."

"Ah," I nodded with a smile. "Well, it was good seeing you. I look forward to Thursday."

"Looking forward to it!" Adalind's artificial smile was fixed on her face as she walked out of the store. The bells on the door jingled as I shut it behind her.

I turned back to face Freddy, who was fixed on me, tugging at his blue, paisley tie under his tan, button-down sweater.

"You, uhh... know her?" Freddy stammered with his brown eyes still as wide as saucers as I approached the counter.

"Yeah. She's an acquaintance," I smiled back at him. He turned a little pale at my response.

"So, what can I get you, ma'am?" Freddy asked with a quiver in his voice. Ma'am? Since when was he calling me ma'am? He had a woge then retracted quickly. What had come over him? Regardless, my face stayed smooth.

"I'm really craving some rose almond tea. Tao sells it, but they're closed today. You wouldn't have anything similar to that, would you?" I asked.

Freddy stood frozen in place and shakily pointed in the direction behind me. "The teas are over there."

Well, I already knew where the teas were. Normally he'd go over with me and help pick out what I needed. Something was off about him today. Maybe he wasn't feeling well.

I walked over to the open shelves that were out on the floor, labeled 'Exotic Teas.' There were quite a few to choose from. But in this place there was always a wide selection of everything. It held a whole treasure trove of things I'd never seen at Whole Foods, for sure. If I knew how to cook, I'd probably know more, but I focused on the teas. Tea I could make without much effort.

The shop itself had such an old world feel to it. Wow, I was starting to use Monroe's words. He was rubbing off on me. The fragrant smell of fresh herbs tinged my nose. Oriental rugs, antique, wooden counters, open glass shelves, and an apothecary cabinet (which reminded me of the one in Nick's trailer) added to the ambiance. Tall, wood shelving lined the walls, filled with a myriad of jars, bottles, and books. Dried flowers and herbs hung here and there. Every time I came in I always spotted something I'd missed the time before. Today it was a library ladder in the far corner, attached to the shelves. God, I hadn't seen one of those in ages. Perhaps I ought to bring Monroe in sometime. He'd love the raw ingredients.

I held up two jars of teas that were labeled, "Rose Almond.' What was different about them? I looked up to ask Freddy, but he still hadn't moved from behind the counter. He kept looking at me like he'd seen a ghost.

"Hey, are you all right today, Freddy?" I asked with concern.

His head bobbed quickly. "Just please don't hurt me," he practically squeaked out his reply. "Anything you want is on the house."

Holy crap! Did he know that I could see him? I was getting awful at this. Why was I slipping? No use playing stupid. Guess I needed to add another Wesen to my list of those in-the-know.

"Freddy, I'd never hurt you." I gave him an assuring nod. "I've known you were a Fuchsbau since the first time I met you. Just because I'm a Grimm…"

"What?! A Grimm?!" Freddy gulped out. "I thought you were a…"

Before he could finish his sentence, two guys rushed into the spice shop. I caught a glimpse of a gun and instinctively ducked down behind the shelves as they ran toward Freddy. I stayed down and held my breath, peeking through the gaps in the shelf.

The one dressed in a denim jacket demanded Freddy tell them where his 'J' was. The other guy, whose back was turned, had on a black hoodie and was aiming his gun directly at Freddy. Freddy tried to run, but Denim Guy took hold of him, slamming him into the shelves behind the counter. He fell to the ground. Denim Guy continued to scream at him for the 'J'. Drug addicts, just great. My pulse quickened, and I continued to hold my breath, trying not to make a sound.

"In the basement," Freddy faintly made out from behind the counter. Denim Guy punched him hard once more.

"Let's go," Denim Guy said to Black Hoodie Guy, and they rushed downstairs through a door on the far wall.

Once they were out of sight, I crossed the room and closed the basement door carefully, locking it from the outside. I ran over to Freddy, who was pretty dazed, lying on the ground.

"Are you okay?" I asked him as I knelt down.

"Grimms aren't supposed to help us," he groaned as I tried to lift him up, but I wasn't strong enough. "The last one I met sure didn't."

"You've got to get up and we need to get out of here before they burst through that door," I urged to Freddy. He was still unable to stand up and I forced my reckless woge to come out as I drug him partially across the room. He lifted his hand near the security alarm.

"Press it," he muttered. I moved over to the counter and pressed the button. A shrill alarm went off in the store. Heavy footsteps pounded up the basement stairs followed by loud banging on the door of the basement.

"You better open up this fucking door!" one yelled as the banging became louder. Why couldn't it have been a silent alarm? I let out a brief sigh. With everything I could muster, I tried to drag the poor Fuchsbau out of harm's way.

Suddenly there was a gunshot followed by a second. The robbers were shooting at the door! I tried again to pull Freddy up.

"Go!" Freddy said and motioned me back toward the shelves.

"I can't leave you here," I said breathlessly.

"They'll kill us both. Go!"

Another shot was fired at the door. There was nothing I could do but go back to my hiding spot. I got there moments before the door flew open.

The robbers were both screaming at Freddy for locking the door, and Denim Guy gave Freddy a swift kick.

"Thanks for the 'J', man," Black Hoodie Guy said.

Freddy grabbed Denim Guy's leg and bit down hard. Denim Guy let out a blood curdling scream as he had a woge into a Skalengeck. Oh, this was even worse! Skalengecks were typically irrationally hostile Wesen. If that lizard spotted me... Oh, I didn't want to think about what he might do.

The screaming continued. Denim Guy pulled out his gun and fired at Freddy a few times. I grabbed at my chest and had to put my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming.

"Clint, come on!" Black Hoodie Guy cried out. He reached for Denim Guy, who was hobbling, and they left the spice shop.

I moved quickly back over to Freddy. There were bullet holes in his chest. I reached to his neck for a pulse, but he was already gone. Oh, God! The alarm was still blaring loudly. I sank down on my knees and pulled out my phone, dialing 911.

I forced my calm to take over so I could speak clearly. "Operator, I need to report a robbery and a murder," I had to yell into the phone to drown out the alarm. I gave the operator the necessary info and hung up. I called Nick next.

"Burkhardt," said the young Grimm on the other line.

"Nick, it's Renée." Panic was creeping back up in my voice. "I just watched a Skalengeck shoot and murder a Fuchsbau," I yelled again.

"What? I can barely hear you," Nick yelled back. The incessant alarm was giving me a headache. I went over to the counter and pressed random buttons until the damn thing shut off. I repeated myself to Nick.

"Where are you?"

"The Exotic Tea and Spice Shop over on..."

Nick cut in and said, "I know which one you're talking about."

"I already called 911, so can I just leave? I can just go, right?" I asked, but I already knew the answer.

"Renée, just stay where you are," Nick said calmly as he whispered his reply. "We'll be there as soon as we can."

"Okay, but please hurry." I was almost in tears. "I really don't want to be here." The calm was high-tailing it out of me and I couldn't hold on. As I hung up I began to cry. I couldn't handle any more death. Closing my eyes, I took a few deep breaths and forced back my emotions. I had to keep it together.

I sat with my eyes closed for a while, just chanting, "Calm in, stress out." It wasn't helping. I picked up my phone and called Monroe. I needed to hear his voice.

"Whoa, Freddy is dead? Renée, are you sure you're okay?" Monroe asked with a ton of worry when I told him where I was and generally what had happened. I didn't want to go into the details again.

"I'm shaken, but physically I'm fine." I assured him. On the inside I was still an absolute mess. "You knew Freddy?"

"Yeah, of course I knew him, but how did you know him?"

"I didn't all that well, really. I visited his shop a handful of times for loose-leaf tea and we chatted when I would come in. That's why I was here today. I just wanted rose almond…" I started to cry again.

"Honey, don't cry," said Monroe soothingly. "You said you called Nick, right?"

I brushed off my tears, trying to choke them back. "Yeah, he said they'd be here soon."

Sure enough someone outside yelled, "Police!"

"They're here I gotta go." I hung up as the cops began to enter the store as quick as a stampede.

"I'm the one who called it in," I said as one cop aimed a gun my way. He put his gun down and came toward me.

"Let me talk to her," a familiar voice said from behind the cop and Nick emerged.

"Renée, are you all right?" he asked in a hushed tone as he put his arm around me and guided me outside.

"I'm just fantastic," I said sarcastically, trying to keep my composure around the Grimm. There was no way Nick was gonna see me babbling like a scared little girl.

Nick ignored my sarcasm and replied, "Could you identify the guys that did this?"

"Yeah they had reptilian skin and…"

Nick shook his head. "Renée, can you be serious with me please?"

"If I saw them again I could identify them without a problem." I had a great memory and these guys were etched in my mind. "One of the guys called the other one, 'Clint,'" I added.

"Good, then maybe we can try to track these guys down. I'm going need a statement from you, so I'll need you to go to the station and wait for me. We're going to go over some mug shots together and see if we have these guys already in our database. Can you handle that?" Nick asked. I really didn't have a choice, so I just nodded that I understood.

"One of the officers can drive you, so if…"

"No, I can drive. It's okay," I interjected.

Nick raised an eyebrow. "You sure you're okay, Renée?"

"Yeah, just another fun day in Portland. I'm getting used to these." I feigned a smile for effect. I was swearing off tea for a while.

I got into my Malibu and took in a deep breath before starting the engine, pushing up the sleeves of my green turtleneck sweater. I called Monroe to let him know I was headed to the police station.

"I'm starting to see why you frequent there so often." I forced out a chuckle.

"Yeah, well it happens from time to time," Monroe replied. "Come over once you're finished, okay?" He didn't have to ask, but thank goodness he did because I was coming over whether he liked it or not. I needed someone desperately.

I was on autopilot on the drive to the station. I turned my radio to classical and didn't really pay attention to what was playing. I just needed something to distract me from my idle thoughts.

Well over an hour later, Nick found me sitting in one of the chairs in the hallway lobby.

"You ready to do this… again?" he asked, voice strained, looking down at me.

I stood up to face him and forced a smirk. "Sure. Maybe this statement will be better than the last two."

"Just stick to normal facts and we'll be okay," he replied with a smirk of his own.

"This is anything but normal, but you already know that," I whispered as we walked out of the hallway.

Nick led me to his desk instead of a room this time. I told him again, with as much supernatural-free info as I could, what had happened. I was detailed about Clint the Denim Guy that did the beating and the shooting, since Black Hoodie Guy just seemed to be there to rob the place. Nick motioned me over to his computer. We went through mug shots until the two Skalengecks who had come in and robbed and murdered Freddy Calvert were staring back at me on Nick's computer screen.

"So, we know who they are. Now how we do we find out where they are?" I asked.

"_We_ won't be finding anyone." Nick gave me a stern look. "The police force and I will find out where they are."

I sighed heavily. "Well at least I was able to do this much."

"This is a lot, Renée. We know who we're looking for now," he smiled. "Wait here a moment, so I can print these off and talk to my partner, Hank, about what we have.

I nodded as Nick walked off to the printer. He pulled off the copies and brought them over to Detective Swagger, who looked over at me and smiled. I could hear them fairly well from where I was sitting.

"Isn't that the clock guy's girlfriend?" Hank asked.

"Yeah, she was the one at the spice shop when the owner, Freddy Calvert, was murdered today."

"Dang. She's becoming as much of a regular as her boyfriend," Hank chuckled.

Nick shook his head as he crossed his arms. "She was just at the wrong place at the right time."

"And her boyfriend wasn't with her this time?"

"No, she was there by herself."

"Well, if I had to choose which one I want to see in here, at least she's easy on the eyes," Hank grinned and waved in my direction. I waved back. If only Detective Swagger knew how easily I could hear him. I stifled a laugh.

They talked more about the suspects, and Nick went over what he had so far on the two Skalengecks. I pulled out my phone and texted Chloe.

**I miss you. :-(**

Nick walked back to his desk.

"There's more we need to talk about," I said with a knowing look. "You need the _rest_ of my statement."

"I'll come over to Monroe's tonight and we'll finish our talk. Right now I've got to contact Freddy's next of kin." Nick let out a breath, clutching a few papers as he spoke. "That's always a pleasant experience," he said sarcastically.

I put a hand on his shoulder, but removed it quickly. Right, remain professional. Captain Debonair had already put two and two together that we were acquainted, so it was best if no one else figured it out.

After Nick had what he needed from me, I was allowed to leave. I drove to Monroe's a little faster than I probably should've, but I needed to be held desperately. I plugged in my MP3 player, found Tom Petty's 'I Won't Back Down' and played it full volume, taking in the words.

"_Gonna stand my ground, won't be turned around.  
And I'll keep this world from draggin' me down.  
Gonna stand my ground and I won't back down…"_

I had to stand my ground, no matter what, and get through this, too. Death and murder were beginning to follow me, but I couldn't back down. Between watching Wesen battle in cages, guards get arrowed to death, and now a Fuchsbau being shot in front of me, trouble needed to stop finding me and dragging me down.

Once Tom Petty was over, I played 'Ooh Child' to keep feeling better.

_"Ooh-oo child, things are gonna get easier  
Ooh-oo child, things'll get brighter..."_

Easier and brighter. Hopefully both of those things would come true.

Monroe already had the door open as I pulled into his driveway.

"I used to look forward to working from home," I said as I walked through Monroe's door. He reached for me and pulled me toward him.

"What am I gonna do with you?" Monroe asked while squeezing me tightly.

Just love me, Monroe, I wanted to say, but I kept that to myself. He held me for a while in the hallway. Yesterday was long gone from my mind. Monroe was always there for me. Nothing else mattered.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he finally asked as he let me go.

"I'm fine, but the Fuchsbau, no, he's not fine at all." I started crying. "Monroe, I tried everything I could to keep him safe. I couldn't save him. What good am I?" I'd let a Wesen die right in front of me. Some great protector I was.

"Honey, you can't save everyone. You tried and that's all you could do. Even Nick doesn't save everyone, and he has more background in, you know, the lifesaving business than you have. Don't beat yourself up over this, okay?"

"I need a hard drink," I said, wiping my eyes.

One of the many clocks read quarter till one. It had to be five o'clock somewhere. Jimmy Buffet said so. There, maybe I wouldn't feel like a drunkard. No, I was taking advice from the King of Margaritaville. I was definitely going to be a drunkard.

"I don't carry tequila," Monroe grinned gently. So much for margaritas.

"Give me wine to wash me clean of the weather-stains of cares," I replied wistfully as I sank into the gold couch.

"Okay, Miss Emerson, pinot noir coming right up," Monroe gave a short laugh, putting his strong hands on my shoulders, massaging them soothingly.

"That's one of the reasons I…" No, not drunk yet, thank goodness, "I adore that sexy brain of yours. I can quote Emerson and you know exactly what I mean."

"If it's a quote on alcohol, I probably know it," he replied with a smile in his voice.

Monroe went to the kitchen and came back with two wine glasses and a bottle of Big Fire pinot noir. He poured me a generous glass full and then filled his own. I put the glass to my lips and breathed in the aroma as I took a sip. Monroe had a knack for selecting the best wines.

"I gotta stop drinking," I said and then took a large gulp. All I did was drink anymore. I shook my head.

"You're under a lot of stress," he said as he settled on the couch beside me. "You've got a free pass right now."

I nodded, leaning into his arm. "Maybe a glass or two of this, a run through the park, and a nap. I need something to forget all this for a while," I mumbled while finishing off my glass rather quickly.

"I'm sure we can find something to occupy your mind," Monroe replied with that devilish grin in his voice.

I sat up to face him. "Wanna play a little 'catch me if you can' in the park?"

"Catch you if I can…? You know the answer to that," Monroe laughed then cleared his throat. "But I'm trying to abstain from that."

"I know, but maybe you could just run with me?"

"You know that never works out," he grinned some more. Those red eyes seemed to flash at the thought of our outdoor activities.

"Okay, how about just a quick game of catch and release?" I replied with a smirk.

Monroe gave me a knowing look. "Oh, if I catch you, then I won't be releasing you."

"That's what I'm hoping for, Mr. Wolf," I grinned at him.

"Okay, I gotta stop you there. We discussed this already. Calling me a wolf, I mean, that is such a misnomer. I'm not a wolf, I'm a Blutbad. Totally different species there, dude."

I gave him a look. That Freudian id again. Since when was our little game under scrutiny?

"I completely realize you're a Blutbad." I shook my rattled brain at him. "I only mean that in our little..."

"Well, we gotta set some boundaries. Let's just stick with Blutbad. I'm just working so hard on my id, man. If I go back to Mr. Wolf…Well, that could be bad."

I bit my tongue from adding 'big and bad.'

"Okay. I respect that. So can a Blutbad romp in the woods with his girlfriend?"

Monroe let out a breath while he shook his head. "You know I want to, right?" His eyes flashed a sexy red as he spoke.

"Then let's just run. No worries, no fears. No... anything," I insisted.

"Running isn't exactly, you know, conducive to my regimen."

"Okay. No, you're right." I stood. "Well, I'm going for a run... You stay here."

"Now, dude, you can't be running on your own..."

"No, Monroe, I need to run. So run with me, or let me go. It's your choice." I was being an enabler. He needed to watch what he was doing. But I needed this. Oh, I was a terrible person.

Monroe let out a deliberate sigh. "No, I'll run with you," he said finally.

"Good, because I need that catch tonight."

"Dude, you realize that this is bad stuff right?"

"I'm sorry. I'll do better next time." I didn't want to ruin his Wieder, but I needed to run. It was better than sitting on the couch, drinking.

"Man, I'll have to explain this one at my next meeting," he sighed as we went upstairs to change.

* * *

A/N: Can we say Island of Dreams, anyone? Back to Grimm story mode.  
So Renée tried to save Freddy, but it's just his fate to die. Adalind is baking up more than just cookies it seems.

Thanks for the responses on the last few chapters. Glad it was received well! Comments and favorites always appreciated!

Four more chapters today. Enjoy! (:


	65. Chapter 65

**Chapter 65**

After a good run and some great post-run activities I was all smiles. After our shower, I held Monroe tightly, trying not to think about poor Freddy. Monroe nuzzled me as I fell asleep in his arms.

We'd slept far too long and it was already dark by the time we awoke. Monroe put on his brown, sweater jacket on top of his white t-shirt and I changed into my spare jeans and lavender, long-sleeved shirt from my overnight bag. Nothing fancy. I smoothed out my hair in the bathroom and freshened up. My neck was much better today. Actually it was healing faster than what I was used to. I glanced down at my necklace. Maybe it was doing something. I reapplied a new bandage and moved my hair. No matter, Monroe didn't need to see it.

We had a great dinner thanks to Monroe, and I was feeling mostly human. Well, as human as a Wesen and Grimm hybrid could feel. Nick called Monroe to let him know he was on the way over.

"Wow, he actually called first?" I asked as Monroe hung up the phone. "Wonders never cease."

"Maybe you _can_ teach a Grimm new tricks," he joked. I gave him a look. "Hey, I've taught you some great things, don't give me those accusing, green eyes."

"Sure, sure," I replied.

Nick arrived shortly after and we went to the breakfast nook to talk.

"So awful to hear about Freddy, man." Monroe shook his head as he handed Nick a beer and poured us another glass from the Big Fire pinot noir bottle. "It's such a shame. He was a nice guy."

Nick had a folder of chemicals for Monroe to look over. While he was going over the list, I gave Nick the supernatural portion of my statement.

"So, then two Skalengecks…"

"What? Skalengecks?" Monroe's head jerked up. "You didn't mention Skalengecks killed Freddy," he said in my direction.

"Sorry, I forgot," I replied. "There were two nasty ones."

"Those dudes are always trouble. The punks of the Wesen world," Monroe commented, going back to the folder.

"Forked tongues, pointy teeth, and gills?" asked Nick.

I nodded. "Did you go to the trailer first?"

"Yeah, I did my homework." Nick smiled like he deserved a gold star for his efforts. Monroe simply gave him a slight nod.

"Nick, they weren't there to rob the place for money. They were there for 'J.'"

"'J,' really?" Monroe's wide eyes flashed up from the file folder. "Freddy had that at his shop?"

"Someone wanna tell me what 'J' is?" Nick asked.

"'J' is a by-product of Jacene," I began. "It's a Wesen street drug. It's like the human equivalent of meth."

"Worse than that," Monroe chimed in. "Try meth mixed with helium and rat poison, then you're close."

"These guys that robbed Freddy were definitely addicts," I said.

"What's Jacene exactly?" Nick asked.

I motioned Monroe to finish. He'd be able to explain better than I would.

"Jacene is a kind of mold," Monroe explained. "It's lethal to most humans, but it has an opiate like effect on… us." He gave me a sideways glance to see if I'd say anything about him separating. I held my tongue. Monroe continued. "Used correctly, it's an incredible pain killer, but some Wesen, like Skalengecks as a good example, have found its recreational purposes the more enjoyable of its uses. It's highly addictive and is terrible for your liver and your brain, for that matter. I wouldn't expect anyone with even half a brain to actually want to do the stuff, anyway."

"So, why haven't I heard of this stuff before?" Nick asked.

"It's just a mold," I replied. "It's not illegal."

"She's right. That's why you wouldn't have heard anything about it," Monroe said to Nick, handing him his folder back. "As for this stuff? Man, I don't know what any of these words mean. Those chemicals don't tell me what any of it really is. But if they were looking for 'J,' then that's what you need to find, dude."

Nick turned in his direction. "Well, do you think you'd know it if you saw any, Monroe?"

"Yeah, I'm sure I would."

I gave Monroe a look.

"Not that I'd ever touch the stuff or anything," he quickly added, gesturing with his hands to assure me he wasn't into that kind of thing.

My cell rang about that time, and I excused myself from the conversation.

"Where are you? Why aren't you at home?" Chloe yelled into the phone as soon as I answered.

"I'm at Monroe's. What's it matter where I am?" I asked.

"Pete and I are at your front door," she responded like I should've known.

"Huh? What?" I sat down on the couch. "Why are you guys in Portland?"

"Jack is en route here. Pete has tried everything, but he wants to talk to you in person and confront Monroe so he can prove he's not crazy. I warned you this might happen, Renée."

"Are you fucking serious?!" What the fuck was Jack thinking?

"Yeah, we figured we'd just fly out as soon as we could. Jack told Pete he's leaving tomorrow. You're gonna need all the help you can get with this, I'm afraid."

Monroe walked over as I was cursing some more into the phone. He was looking at me with eyes wide. He knew I didn't curse often. Nick was just as puzzled as he followed Monroe to the living room.

"I'll be there in ten to fifteen minutes tops," I replied and hung up the phone.

"What's going on?" Monroe asked.

"Apparently Jack is heading to town tomorrow to confront the 'Bluerod,'" I fumed as I stood up. "Chloe and Pete are at my house. Why doesn't anyone just call ahead?" I was already walking over to the cedar chest to get my jacket.

"What?! Fucking asshole!" Monroe growled, having a woge, but then retracted.

"What's a Bluerod? Who are Chloe and Pete?" Nick was asking all kinds of questions I really didn't want to get into with him.

"Renée's crazy ex, Jack. You remember him right?"

"Oh, yeah. I remember that guy."

"Well, umm, when I was in Louisville, I kinda had a lapse moment and showed myself to him," Monroe said as he calmed down. "So now he's kinda, you know, questioning his sanity since he saw me."

"What?! Monroe, you showed yourself to someone?" Nick's mouth was slightly agape like he'd just seen a Wesen.

"Yeah. It wasn't my proudest moment, dude," Monroe replied, shaking his head.

"And a Bluerod is…?"

"Jack found one of my notebooks that talked about Blutbaden," I said hurriedly as I put on my jacket. "He kept calling them Bluerods. I convinced him it was a fictional character I made up for a class in college. But now I'm not so sure he thinks they're fictitious."

"So, then who are Chloe and Pete?"

"Chloe is my best friend, and Pete is her brother."

"They're the Karnickelhöhles," added Monroe. I shot him a look. "What? You didn't tell him?" Monroe seemed a bit surprised.

"Karnick-whats?" Nick asked, scratching his head.

"They're rabbit-like Wesen." I used layman's terms for Nick's sake as I pulled out my car keys.

"Why didn't you tell me anything about them, or that kind of Wesen?" Nick snapped. "I thought we were done with the secrets."

"My secrets, yes. But I'm not going to reveal everyone else's secrets. But now you know, so congrats."

"Dude, I didn't know you hadn't mentioned them," Monroe said. "Sorry."

"And they know about you, right?" asked Nick.

"Yeah, of course they do," I shook my head in frustration. "And while I'd like to discuss this further, I really need to go home. Monroe, call me when you're done with Nick." I rushed over to give him a fast kiss and headed toward the door.

"Renée, I really think I should go with you," Monroe urged as I was leaving.

I turned as I held the door open. "Go help Nick. I'll be fine for right now. Jack isn't here yet, so it'll be all right," I assured him as I closed the door behind me.

I practically stomped to my car, threw on Limp Bizkit's 'Break Stuff' full blast, rolled down the windows, and drove off to my house. I sang out the lyrics and tried to control my reckless woge, but it was in full force.

"_It's just one of those days,__  
__When you don't wanna wake up.__  
__Everything is fucked,__  
__Everybody sucks.__  
__You don't really know why,__  
__But you want justify,__  
__Rippin' someone's head off…"_

Jack was so lucky he wasn't already here. I would've done more than rip his head off! I pounded my fist into the steering wheel, imagining it was his head.

After the song ended I put on some Mozart's 'Symphony No. 25,' which was still too upbeat to calm me down. I let the practiced calm wash me over as best it could. I was resilient and I would get through this. Jack, however, probably wouldn't survive. I couldn't play out a scenario in my mind that didn't end up badly for him. Either Monroe would kill him or Chloe would. Maybe with my newfound skills, I would. I pushed the negative thoughts out and let Mozart take me out of my anger.

I pulled in my driveway, and there were two bunnies sitting on my front porch. Chloe practically ran to my car as I got out.

"Okay, so are you ready for this?" she asked me before I could even close my car door.

"Chloe, I have no clue. It's been a horrible day," I said while making my way to the house. Pete remained on the porch with a half-grin on his face.

"Where's Monroe at?" Chloe asked and I turned as she peeked into the car like she expected to find him in there somewhere.

"He's with Nick looking for some Jacene," I replied, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Jacene?" Chloe gasped. "Like the drug, 'J?'"

"Yeah." I walked through the front door with my rabbit friends close behind. "A Fuchsbau had some in the basement of his spice shop. Two Skalengecks came in to rob him and score the drugs. I got to witness his murder today."

"What?! You witnessed a murder?" Chloe was as concerned as I knew she would be. She and Pete removed their jackets quickly. "What else has happened? I know there's something more."

I really didn't want to tell her everything else, but one look at me and she knew. There was always so much to tell Chloe.

"Of course there's more," I bleakly replied. No use trying to hide it. I wasn't in the mood to feign innocent tonight. "I'm glad you're here though." I gave her a hug, but then stopped to look into her crystal blue eyes. "I can't believe you're here in Portland." I finally found a small smile.

"It's not for a fun visit," she reminded me. "I really wish it was." I didn't want to be reminded.

I pointed to my living room. "You guys make yourselves comfortable on the couch. What can I get you to drink?"

"Oh, I don't want anything," Chloe replied.

"You'll want something. Trust me," I said with a knowing look. "Pete, what's your poison?"

"Just a beer is fine, Née," he said, looking over my house. "This place is huge."

"Yeah, I decided if I was going to live here I may as well get something roomy. There are guest bedrooms upstairs you guys can have," I commented while motioning my hand toward the stairs.

Thank goodness I'd slowly been furnishing the upstairs rooms, since now they had a purpose. I had two spare guest rooms in case Chloe and my parents ever decided to visit for the weekend. Well, now my mom and Chloe… Oh, I really didn't need to think about that right now, too. One thing at a time, Renée.

I shook my head and went to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of Rogue for Pete. I grabbed a bottle of vodka and some orange juice out for Chloe. If only I had something stronger, because she was going to need it after I told her everything I'd been avoiding. Even vodka wasn't strong enough for this conversation.

I handed the drinks over and set the bottles of vodka and juice on the coffee table.

Chloe tilted her head awkwardly. "You're leaving out the bottle?"

I plopped down on the light blue and gray carpet, looking up at both of them.

"Yeah, you'll understand why in a minute. Are you ready for some story time?" I asked and they both nodded.

* * *

A/N: So, okay... Grimm story mode continues while we have a bit of an arch in play. Jack! (Queue ominous music) But Chloe and Pete are in town! Oh, boy!

Sorry, no details on Renée and Monroe's run. I figure you guys have had enough stories of running through the woods that you'd get the drift there. LOL!

Let's continue to the next chapter, shall we? (: (Or stop and comment, whichever.)


	66. Chapter 66

**Chapter 66**

"Renée!" Chloe screamed at me, and I'd only gotten to the Reapers. By the time I finished this story, I was going to need an aspirin.

"Chloe, she just told you they came out of nowhere. Quit screaming at her!" Pete responded in my defense. "Née, I'm just glad you were okay!" he said as he gripped his knee with his free hand.

"Apparently my recklessness has a purpose. I took one Reaper down while Monroe took down the other. I honestly don't know what happened after that. I blacked out. Monroe said he took care of it, and I swear that scared the crap out of me, because I have no clue what he did. Maybe he killed them, I don't know. He wouldn't tell me, but it was obvious it was something bad. He wouldn't even talk about it when we told Nick what had happened, and he tells Nick everything."

I let out a breath at the release of my inner thoughts. While I'd mentioned the Reapers to Nick, I didn't get to express how I'd felt about it. It was awkward talking about this with Pete in the room, but we were all practically family.

"Monroe…" Chloe shook her head. "I'm glad he was there to keep you safe, but he's like a big ball of crazy in a can. Of course he killed them. Probably stuffed their bodies in a garbage can somewhere along with Red Riding Hood," she said while working on her second screwdriver.

"Chloe, that was uncalled for!" I replied sharply.

"Hey, you suggested it, I just elaborated the possible details," she snorted and took a long swig from her glass. "Crazy Wesen do crazy things."

"Monroe isn't crazy," I declared, ignoring her smirk. "He's just going through a lot of changes to his routine, but he's not crazy at all. He's the sanest Wesen I've met, actually." Chloe seemed a tad bit insulted at my remark. "You know what I mean."

"Chloe, she's right. Monroe's an okay guy… Well, when he's not spazzing in bars, that is." Pete laughed. "But dealing with Jack would do that to anybody," he added.

"Have there been more of these Reaper things here?" Chloe questioned, taking another large gulp of her drink. "What about the Lowen?"

"There's a Lowen?" Pete asked. Oh, goodness. I wasn't going to go back and tell Pete everything, too.

"Chloe, you fill him in later if you want to, okay? No Reapers or Lowen since we arrived back," I shook my head.

I went into my story about being kidnapped by the Daemonfeuer.

"Fuck, Renée." She downed the rest of her second screwdriver. Unlike Blutbaden, Karnickelhöhles didn't hold their liquor well. Chloe was a lightweight when it came to drinking. Okay, well, maybe it was just a Chloe thing. "No wonder you didn't tell me any of this. I would've had a heart attack!" Chloe held her chest for effect. Sadly I was nowhere near done.

"Wow, a Daemonfeuer?" Pete commented with a smile. "That's kinda awesome."

"Yeah, she wasn't too awesome," I scoffed in reply. "If it wasn't for Monroe rescuing both me and Nick's girlfriend, who knows what might have happened."

"Nick is the Grimm, right?" Pete asked, trying to follow along. I nodded.

"So, heroic Monroe saved you from a dragon." Chloe smirked. "You can't get any more chivalrous than that. I'm sure that sent your little romance meter flying, didn't it?" She giggled loudly. She was getting tipsy already.

"I've read one too many Alexandre Dumas novels for it not to," I replied, allowing myself to blush.

"Well, thank goodness for Monroe then," Chloe said with an absence of sarcasm I was expecting to hear. Maybe the alcohol was helping after all. I refilled her glass.

"Too bad Nick's girlfriend got to punch the Daemonfeuer instead of me though. I would've loved to have used my Grimm skills then. I turned quickly to Pete. "Do you know about what I found out? Chloe did you tell him?" Pete's clueless face let me know that she hadn't. "Pete… Well, I'll just say it… I'm half Grimm and half Waldgeist. So I'm, like, Wesen mixed with a Grimm, which is some rare combination. It's been a bit crazy to learn. I'm still trying to figure it all out."

"I know all about Waldgeists," Pete said, which kind of surprised me. Even Monroe didn't know much about them except for some of the legends.

"What do you mean you know about Waldgeists?" Chloe shot him a look. "I'd never even heard of such a thing. What kind of books are you reading?"

"Grandma Haas told us about them, don't you remember?"

"I never believed anything she told us. She's the same one who said that she got her shoes repaired by a Heinzelmännchen."

"Okay, so maybe Grandma Haas wasn't always rowing both oars in the water, but her tales about Waldgeists were true."

"So, then you know what that means?" I asked as Pete looked back at me.

"It explains a whole lot, that's for sure, Née," he said with a smile. We were going to need a private chat soon.

"Pete, do you know anything about Wesen with violet eyes?" I asked.

Pete scratched his head. "Violet?" He paused like he was perusing his own mental filing cabinets. "Maybe? It sounds familiar. Where did you see a Wesen with violet eyes?"

I told him about the Gypsy and her warnings. "And after the reading, her eyes flashed violet."

"When you say, 'flashed,' what do you mean?"

"Like this." I forced my eyes to Chloe and Pete. They simultaneously darted back. "It looked like that, but violet," I continued, ignoring their shock.

"Do that again," said Chloe as she leaned in. I forced my woge once more. "That's so… Wow. You look like a traffic light." She giggled once more as she took another sip of her drink. "So it's all true."

I nodded. "My grandmother said it only comes out in forests, but I've been practicing," I said with a half-smile. I turned back to Pete. "So do you know any Wesen like that?"

"What else besides the eyes did you see?"

"That was all. She remained human. Although, that doesn't mean much, I know."

Monroe's eyes flashed red often without any wolf features. Just because a Wesen's eyes changed didn't mean there wasn't more to the woge they weren't revealing.

"Yeah, sounds familiar, but I'm not placing it," said Pete as he scrunched his twitching nose. "You don't think this psychic had any real sixth sense, do ya?"

I shrugged. "The things she said were just too… I don't know."

"Renée, she was vague enough that it could've meant anything," Chloe slurred. "Those exact things happened to me just this week. I found out our bonuses were cut at the school. There, my truth crashed down. I'm here instead of on a beach in Florida. That was my big choice. And balancing two worlds? Well, I balance my human and Wesen life every day. So you see, anyone could use those words."

I let out a sigh. Drunk or not, Chloe made a point. But it still didn't answer why she knew my name and that I was a protector, or what type of Wesen she was, but I was in no mood to debate it tonight.

"Is there anything else I need to know about?" Chloe asked with drunken concern.

"Yeah, just a little bit more," I said sheepishly.

For the next twenty minutes I retold the tales of the attack of the other Blutbad, almost being killed twice by the thieving Waschbar, and finally the Freddy the Fuchsbau.

"Fucking hell, Renée!" Chloe was almost dizzy from shaking her head at me. "Is that all?"

"Isn't that enough?" asked Pete, who was shaking his head, too. He took a long drink from his beer.

I forced a smile. "I think that covers it." Oh, my normal life.

Chloe held out her glass. "I think I need another drink." I refilled it. She leaned back against the couch and took another sip. "So, now to the matter at hand… Jack."

"Okay, so he comes here. What's he want me to tell him?" I asked as I held out my hands. "'Monroe is the Big Bad Wolf and you're not crazy.'?"

"He's just losing the few marbles he has left, Née," Pete reasoned. "He wants to know he isn't seeing things."

"Well, I can't explain Wesen and Grimms to him to validate his sanity, now can I?" I stood and shook my head. "And I definitely don't want him and Monroe in a room together. Monroe is beyond pissed right now, so I can't have them going at each other again."

"That's why Pete is here. We were thinking maybe we could use a little chemistry to make Jack… forget."

Chemistry to forget? What were these bunnies plotting?

"Oh, we aren't going down that road," I said adamantly.

"But it's the perfect solution," Chloe explained, drinking down her glass. "Jack forgets about that night... Hell, maybe he'll just forget about you entirely, and you can be free of him."

"Absolutely not, Chloe," I replied with a shake of my head. "We saw what happens when you dabble with that kinda thing. It's not something you just abracadabra around with."

There was a Hexenbiest in high school that Chloe knew who'd tried to use a Zaubertrank to make one of the popular guys in school fall in love with her. Well, she wasn't gifted when it came to magic, because the poor guy fell in love with one of the teachers instead. It was one of those things that became headline news, since the teacher was kind of thrilled that a good-looking, teenage boy would be interested in her. She enjoyed every moment while it lasted. Fortunately, it wore off pretty quickly, but by then the damage had been done. I didn't want to play Harry Potter with Jack's memory.

"No, Née, this could work," Pete chimed in. "I have the ingredients. We just need him to take it."

"You guys aren't really serious, are you?"

"We're serious. It'll work. Pete's a fucking genius. It'll be hunky dory." Chloe had a drunken grin on her face. She'd already finished her fourth glass. I poured her another half glass for good measure. She was a happy drunk.

"No, there has to be something else we can do," I replied with a shake of my head. "I'll be back."

I went to the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of merlot. I needed a drink now. My phone rang as I was taking a sip from my glass.

"Hey, Hun," said Monroe as I answered the phone. "How are things going?"

"Just fine." I suppressed a sigh. "How was drug hunting?"

"Well, we went to the shop, and I think I found a few bottles of 'J' in the basement. Freddy's relative is in town, so they're going to see if there's anything else down there that, you know, Wesen might use to kill off a few brain cells."

"If those guys left any of that stuff, then they might return," I warned. "Addicts don't like to leave anything behind, especially something like 'J.'"

"I'm sure Nick can take care of the rest. Can I come by?" Monroe asked cautiously. "Is it, uh, safe?"

I glanced at my drunken friend. "Yeah, it ought to be fine." Pete was still grinning at me and I shook my head at him.

"Good, I'm almost to your place. See you in a few." That was as good of a call-ahead as I was going to get.

Monroe arrived five minutes later and hovered in the hallway. "You sure it's okay?" he asked.

"It's fine." I smiled at him. "Come in."

"Monroe!" Chloe called out, hopping over as he walked in. She gave him a hug, which was by far the most awkward thing I'd seen in a long time. "It's the knight in his shining VW!" She giggled as she crossed the room and fell back on the couch.

Monroe gave me a very confused look, and I gave him one right back. "Hi, Chloe." Monroe's voice went high pitch as he cleared his throat. "Nice to see you?"

"Monroe… Slayer of the Daemonfeuer!" She grinned at him from ear to ear. "Hero in plaid!"

"Well, I, umm, didn't actually slay any dragons…" He was still looking in my direction, confused as ever.

I bit my top lip, trying not to blush at his secret nicknames. "She's drunk," I whispered to him.

"I heard that!" Chloe said. "I'm just tipsy!" she added and giggled some more.

"Really drunk," I mouthed to him.

"Hey, Monroe." Pete walked up and gave Monroe a handshake. "How's it going, buddy?"

"Hey, man. Good to see you again." Monroe tugged at the zipper on his red and blue jacket as he took it off. "Sorry about what happened in the bar that night. I was a little…"

"No need to apologize," Pete stopped him. "Jack had it coming to him. He's lucky you didn't do worse." He smirked. "But we just gotta figure out how to make him forget what he saw."

"Yeah, that's gonna be hard to do," Monroe replied.

"Well, we were telling Née here that there may be some alterations we could do to his memory."

"Alterations? Are you talking… Oh no, dude. I don't think that's a good idea."

"I have a bachelor's in chemistry; I think I've got something that might work."

"I dunno…" Monroe said, and I nodded in agreement, enforcing Monroe's concerns.

"Well, the asshole's gonna be here sometime tomorrow," Chloe slurred from the couch. "Renée won't let me kill him, so what do you suggest?"

Monroe sat down in one of the chairs, and I took a patch of carpet beside him. "Dude, maybe Nick could do something," Monroe suggested.

I looked up at Monroe. "He's a cop. Unless Jack is breaking the law, there's not much he can legally do." I sighed and looked around the room. "So, have any of you guys ever shown a human your true form and had to explain it?" I knew the answer already. They both shrugged and shook their heads. "What about you?" I looked up to ask Monroe.

"Showing, yes," Monroe replied. "Explaining? Yeah, not so much."

"Maybe he'll just change his mind and stay home," I decided, leaning back against Monroe's leg.

"Yeah, right. You think Jack is just going to stay home?" Chloe remarked. "I'm surprised it took this long for him to decide to make the trip."

"Pete, do you know when he's supposed to arrive?" I asked.

"He said he was leaving tomorrow, so could be anytime."

"Well, I can at least figure out the earliest time." I grabbed my laptop and pulled up flight listings from Standiford Field. After a few clicks I had the answer I needed. "The earliest flight Jack could take tomorrow is ten-thirty, and it's a two hour layover in Dallas, so the earliest he could arrive is two-thirty Pacific time." There, my organizational skills came to the rescue once more.

"You're a whiz on that computer," said Monroe, and I smiled back at him.

The four of us discussed more ideas, but nothing we came up with was really going to get rid of Jack Monahan.

"Well, we're not coming to any conclusions tonight." I stood back up. "I'm sure you guys are exhausted from your trip," I said to Pete, but Chloe was already asleep on the couch. "Are you staying?" I turned and asked Monroe.

"I could, but I also need to get up early in the morning, get my Pilates in, and then I've got a few clocks to work on." I understood. He needed to stay on his routine, and it hadn't helped that we went for a run tonight against his better judgment.

"No, you're right. Like I said, Jack won't arrive till two-thirty or later, so we'll be fine."

Monroe gave me a long kiss goodbye at the door. I felt Pete's eyes on me, but I tried not to worry about it. Once Monroe left I turned to Pete, who was giving me a smirk.

"You know when you and I used to do that…"

"Whoa, let's stop right there, Petey." My eyes widened as I pointed a finger at him. "We can't talk about that! Chloe is right on the couch."

Pete grinned. "She's knocked out, dead to the world."

"Even so, we can't discuss these kinds of things." I walked through the living room and back to the kitchen as Pete followed. "I'm in a relationship. You and I were a long time ago."

"Née, I let you go because you said you couldn't date Wesen." Pete moved toward me while I straightened the counter top. "That really hurt, but I got over it. When I found out you were dating a Blutbad, it was like the pain happened all over again. Now I tolerated Jack because I thought you were happy with a mediocre human. But really, Née, you should've let me know that I might've had a chance."

I glanced up from the counter. "Pete, you were going to tell Chloe. She would've had a fit over us. I couldn't lose my best friend over something that may not have even lasted past a summer. We were just kids."

"We were old enough to know what we had was more than just a summer fling. Née, we were good together. Really good together." He took my hands in his. "I've missed you."

"We saw each other in March," I reminded him.

"You know what I mean." His eyes were locked on mine. "I miss you."

"Pete, I can't have this conversation." I let his hands go. "You're here to help me, and I am grateful for that. But I'm very happy in my relationship."

"Née, I'm here for you, I always will be. Rabbits are attracted to Waldgeists. So if it makes you feel any better, just know it's the nature of us that has me attracted to you." His crystal blue eyes were wet and dull, and I felt awful.

"That doesn't make me feel better," I replied while glancing down. Being an aphrodisiac Wesen wasn't helping this conversation. "I never wanted to hurt you, Petey. Please know that." It was like I was breaking up with him all over again.

"Well, if your Blutbad doesn't pan out. I'm here and I'm letting you know how I feel so…" his voice trailed off.

I dusted my hands off on my jeans. "I'm going to get some sleep. Do you need help with your luggage from the car?" I was becoming good at changing subjects.

Pete shook his head. "Nah, I can get it. You get some rest."

"I do wanna talk to you about Waldgeists though. I learned some info when I went to California, but if there's something more I need to know...?"

"Waldgeists are quite magical. I don't know if the hybrids are as such, but let's try an experiment and see what happens."

"Umm, okay," I reluctantly agreed. What kind of experiment was I agreeing to?

Pete went outside and returned with a brown leaf. "Hold it in your hand and just think of it being lush and green."

I squinted at him. "Are you serious?"

"Just try it, Née," Pete encouraged, holding out the leaf.

I reluctantly took it from him. "Okay." Letting out a short sigh, I closed my eyes and held the leaf in my hands. I thought really hard about it being green.

"Oh, wow, Née!" Pete sputtered out. "Open your eyes!"

The leaf was as green and vibrant as if I had plucked it from the tree. I dropped it on the kitchen floor and gasped.

"Now that was a pretty cool experiment!" he exclaimed.

"Holy crap!" I almost shrieked.

"Wow, I wasn't sure it was going to work." Pete gave me a smile.

I picked up the leaf and rotated it in my hands, scrutinizing it from every angle. "I have no clue what I can do with it, but that I can do… that... Holy crap!" I shook my head. This couldn't be possible.

"See? Magic! What did I tell ya?"

I looked at the leaf again and then glanced back up. "Pete, you are a genius. Monroe didn't know anything about this."

"Hey, you always liked me for my brains," he said with a smirk. I was attracted to sexy brains, for sure.

"I can… save whole forests… or something," I stammered. I wanted to go outside and touch things.

"Now be careful, Née, because I have no idea what this actually does to you. It may drain you or something. For every action there's an equal and opposite reaction. You've heard of that right?"

"Yeah." I nodded slowly as I took in a breath. "I'm sure bringing something to life might hurt something else."

I hadn't really thought of that until Pete mentioned it, but it made sense. There had to be a balance to it. Maybe I just killed a leaf on the other side of the world somewhere. Or maybe I just lost a year of my life. Oh, this was worse than a Zaubertrank. Perhaps I didn't need to mess with things I didn't understand. My grandmother may have known about this, but didn't tell me for this exact reason. The balance of two worlds. Justice. The tarot cards surfaced back in my mind. I shook the thoughts out. Maybe Chloe was right. I was trying to apply that to everything.

"Right. It could hurt something else, or more importantly, it could hurt you," Pete warned, but he was still grinning. "So, you shouldn't go on a nature rescue just yet, Née."

"I understand." I gave another slow nod, twirling the leaf between my fingers and then set it down. Monroe needed to know about this. I could risk one more leaf. Now I really felt like Supergirl. "Pete, thank you! I really mean it." I hugged him tightly.

"I'm sure you would've figured it out on your own," he replied, holding me longer than he should have. "You're good at puzzles." His lips brushed against my cheek then moved to my lips.

My eyes widened as he kissed me deeply, leaning me against the counter. He held my arms as I jerked back from his mouth. I looked down briefly then back up into his eyes. "We should probably get some sleep," was all I could say.

Pete let out a breath and shook his head, letting me go as he stepped back. "Yeah, you're probably right." His mouth formed a thin line, like he was biting back another comment.

"Do you think Chloe will be okay on the couch?" I asked, pointing to the living room.

"Eh, she's slept in weirder places."

I nodded. "Very true." In college, Chloe had slept in a bathtub after a weekend kegger. This was definitely an upgrade by comparison.

Pete awkwardly hovered in the kitchen. "I'm just going to go get our bags out of the car."

"Lock up when you're done," I replied with a short nod. "Goodnight, Pete."

"Goodnight, Née."

Once Pete went back outside, I shook my head, crossing my arms tightly. What the hell had just happened? Thank goodness he was here and willing to help me, but it was obvious he and I didn't need to be under the same roof.

Shaking the kiss out of my mind, I went to my bedroom and threw on my flannel PJs. As I rested my head against the pillow, I smiled. I had a magic power. I was so cool.

* * *

A/N: Okay! So Chloe and Pete are caught up on all the crazy things that have happened so far in this story. And Renée is finding out more about her Waldgeist side. Whoa, huh?

Pete isn't over Renée, but we kinda knew that from last book. But maybe he's right… maybe it's just her Waldgeist side attracting him. Or that's just a good excuse to kiss her. You be the judge. LOL!

Continuing on... Enjoy!


	67. Chapter 67

**Chapter 67**

The phone ringing near my ear woke me up with a start.

"Hey, Hun. Sorry to wake you, but Nick called. He needs me to be a bodyguard tonight, so I'm spending the night at someone's house."

"Bodyguard? That doesn't sound good. Is it safe?" which when my drawl came out sounded like 'That dudden sound gud. Izit safe?'

"Yeah, I mean, it's just a precautionary thing."

"Okay. If Nick needs your help, do what you got to do." Of course it sounded like, 'If Nick needs yer halp, do whutcha godda do.'

"I'll let you get back to sleep, my Southern Belle," he laughed.

"Hush," I replied, but I really said, 'Hursh.'

"Maybe we can grab breakfast with the bunnies in the morning. Goodnight," he said and I hung up.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

The next morning I woke up refreshed. Surprisingly, I'd slept well last night after everything that had happened. It was a quarter after seven. Wow, that was a new record for me to wake up on my own this early. I took a shower, and considering the craziness yesterday, I was in excellent spirits. I hummed Lesley Gore's 'Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows' as I lathered up. Yeah, I was in a great mood. I was still humming as I dried off and walked back into my bedroom.

"Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows, huh?" Pete said behind me, and I let out a shriek.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" I yelled and gripped my towel tightly around me.

"I made coffee, thought you might like a cup," Pete said with a grin. He held a white coffee mug in my direction.

"How about you go in the other room and let me get dressed!" I exclaimed, pointing to the door. Pete laughed and walked out, singing the song I was humming.

Holy crap! He really didn't need to be here. I quickly got dressed and went out to the living room. Chloe was still asleep where we had left her. I moved to the kitchen, where Pete was cooking up a storm.

"Ah, you're dressed now, good. Coffee?" he asked.

"Sure, but let's not go into my bedroom without knocking first, okay?"

"Yeah, sorry," he grinned. Oh, he was just so sorry. "The color on the walls reminds me of your bedroom back home," he said with a wink. I just shook my head at him, pointing to the living room where Chloe was still on the couch.

"Last night…" I said. "That can't happen again."

"I know, Née. We were having a moment there, and while you were hugging me I just fell into old memories of holding you like that."

"We can't make new memories."

Pete nodded gravely. "I know." He passed me a cup of coffee, and I took a sip. He'd used the coffee pot instead of the French press, but I drank it regardless.

"Thanks," I said. "And thanks for making breakfast."

"Chloe isn't the only Haas who's good in a kitchen," Pete smiled.

"Yeah, I remember," I replied and bit back my grin.

Monroe would probably call me in an hour or so, since he knew I didn't get up early. Freddy's murder was back in my brain again. I called Nick to see if there was any news on the Skalengecks. I really wanted to know if they had been caught yet.

"Burkhardt," Nick said when he answered the phone.

"Hey, Nick. It's Renée."

"Renée. What's going on?"

"I just wanted to know if you had any leads on Freddy's murderers yet."

"I can't tell you much since it's police business," he replied in a serious tone.

"Well, I'm kind of invested, don't ya think? I just wanna know if they're off the streets for my own piece of mind." There, that was the best excuse I could come up with.

"They came back to the spice shop last night. Freddy's sister was there and fortunately she got out of there. But Monroe stayed with her last night. I thought he said he was going to call and let you know?"

Freddy's sister, huh? Monroe didn't mention the bodyguard work was for a female Fuchsbau. Interesting to know.

"Yeah, he called, but I was asleep, so I didn't really get what he was saying."

"They're headed to that spice shop now. He called literally two minutes ago. I asked him to stay with her since she was insistent on going back there this morning. I think she wants to get things packed up with the shop so she can go home to Seattle."

"Thanks for the info, Nick."

"Are you okay with your ex thing? Has he arrived yet? Monroe filled me in on the details."

"No, he hasn't shown his face, but from what I can gather he won't be here until later this afternoon. I might need to keep you on speed dial if Jack gets out of hand. Can I do that?"

"Yeah, that's fine. Hopefully you won't have to call me, though."

"I really hope so."

"Hold on a second," Nick said as he began talking to someone in the background. "Actually we just got a lead and we're headed out right now. Don't worry, Freddy's killers will get what they deserve. I gotta go." And he hung up.

I called Monroe.

"Hey, you're up early today," he said.

"Yeah, so how did the bodyguard work go last night?" I asked nonchalantly.

"I'm kinda still doing it. Nick wanted me to keep an eye on his person of interest this morning. Can we, uh, postpone breakfast?"

"Yeah, that's fine. Pete is actually cooking this morning. That's kind of why I called actually." It wasn't, but he didn't have to know that.

"Oh. Well, that's good then. I'll give you a call later on today."

Still no mention of the female Fuchsbau. I shook my head. At least Nick had kept me in the loop. But I trusted Monroe. If he didn't want to mention it, then I wasn't going to worry.

"Sure, hope things go well," I replied with a smile in my voice and we hung up.

"Breakfast is ready!" Pete called out from the kitchen.

Chloe was stirring on the couch. "Oh, my head!" she whined as she tried to sit up.

"One too many screwdrivers last night?" I asked with a smile.

She held her forehead. "I need drugs and coffee, like, right now!"

"Let me see what I can find. Hey, Pete, we need a coffee over here, stat!" I yelled out.

"Don't… yell…" Chloe moaned.

"Sorry!" I said in a hushed tone.

"Was Monroe here last night?" she asked.

"Yeah, he was for a little while. You don't remember?" I asked, trying hard not to grin.

"Oh, okay. I thought I dreamed it."

I laughed, "No, you didn't dream it. You were quite nice to him, though. Maybe I need to keep you drunk around him more often," I laughed. Chloe scowled at me, and then held her head again.

I went to my medicine cabinet and found a bottle of aspirin. I took the bottle to Chloe, and Pete had already gotten her a cup of coffee.

"I'm officially too old to drink like that," she sighed, taking two pills.

"Nah, you're not too old," I replied. "You just don't need to down them so quickly."

"So, Monroe didn't spend the night?"

I forced a smile. "Nah. And this morning he's at a spice shop, protecting a female Fuchsbau."

"Oh, boy…" Chloe let her head tip back on the couch. She had a direct link to my brain and my smile wasn't fooling her for a minute.

"No, it's fine. He just didn't mention that she's a Fuchsbau, and I had to find out from Nick."

"It's Marian Rabosa all over again," Chloe sighed then took a sip of coffee.

I flinched at the mention of her name. "Oh, don't even go there. I don't want to think about it."

"But you already are. That's why you look like someone punched you in the face. But if I recall, you punched Marian pretty hard in hers."

Marian Rabosa could've had any guy in school, but she enjoyed mine. She was a true vixen, no doubt. I'd lost three boyfriends to her from freshman to junior year. Junior year I got my first detention and almost messed up being valedictorian the next year because of Marian. I punched her hard in the face once I found out my boyfriend of three months, who had dumped me the day before junior prom, was going with her instead. It was the only in-school fight I'd ever had, and consequently the first fight I'd ever had that wasn't due to protecting someone. This one was my own anger spilling forth.

My dad had to come to the school and talk them out of suspending me. Detention was a mild punishment considering what I'd done. Marian had to get a nose job, and she missed two weeks of school for the surgery. Yeah, I had a bad experience with female Fuchsbaus. I didn't want history to repeat itself.

"I'm an adult and Monroe is an adult, and I'm not going to think about it," I said firmly.

"Hey guys, breakfast is getting cold over here," Pete called out to us as he poked his sandy-haired head back into the living room.

"Think you can eat something?" I asked Chloe.

"Yeah, I think I can get something down me."

We sat around the dining room table. This was the most people I'd had at this table before. It was nice. Pete had made a pretty good breakfast.

"I just went vegetarian, Née, but I didn't see anything like bacon or sausage or anything to make extra for you."

"No, it's fine. I'm trying to go vegetarian too, actually."

"Really?" Pete replied with a surprised look.

"Yeah, Monroe is already that way and, well, it's better for both of us," I replied while shaking my head. I had friends that are part of my favorite meals. It felt a little creepy when I started thinking about it.

Pete raised his glass. "Well, welcome to the club!"

Midway through breakfast Chloe's ears perked up. "Someone's on your porch."

"There is?" Good hearing would be such a great talent to have. I got up and went to my front door. I repressed a sigh once I opened it.

"Oh, hi!" said Basket Man Bud nervously. He had my porch light in his hands. Wires were all over the place. "I was going to fix this without having to disturb you… Umm, but I guess I disturbed you anyway. I'm really sorry."

Chloe poked her head out from behind me. "What's he doing?"

"Oh, I'm just fixing this porch light. I like to fix things and…" he stammered as his beaver features came out.

Chloe stepped out on the porch, doing a courtesy woge in return.

"Oh, so you're a…" Bud looked up at Chloe, then at me, then back to Chloe. "And you're here with the…?"

"Her name is Renée," Chloe replied, and then turned back to me mouthing the words, 'Does he know about you?'

I nodded slowly. I hadn't mentioned the Eisbiber debacle. That one I'd forgotten about.

Chloe turned back to Bud. "We're in the middle of breakfast. Are you going to be here long?"

Bud stammered again, "I'm just here… Umm… to fix the light. I won't be long, I promise."

I walked forward. "I appreciate it, but I told you already you didn't have to do this."

"No, I want to. I'm just really sorry I interrupted your breakfast."

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" I asked.

His eyes widened at me like I'd offered him a bottle of poison. "No… Uhh… I mean, no thank you. I'll be finished with this in just ten minutes, I swear."

"Okay. Just knock on the door when you're done."

"Sure, sure, sure. I can do that." Bud did a little bow again and I refrained from shaking my head.

Chloe and I went back inside and I shut the door.

"You wanna tell me what that was all about?" Chloe hissed as we walked back to the dining room table.

I shared the story of revealing myself to Sandra, the Price-Tag Lady stalking me, and Bud the Basket Man with his late night dessert peace offering. Thank goodness Eisbiber didn't have super hearing like my rabbit friends did.

"Great, so you told a Nussesser your secret, and she's blabbing it all over town?" Chloe chided in her mothering tone, trying to keep her voice down. "You know how Nussesser are; they can't keep a secret to save their lives."

"I thought this one was different," I sighed as I ate a forkful of omelet. "I've talked to her since then and she won't be telling anyone else."

"Right, until the next time it happens," she scoffed. "Dammit, Renée."

"Hey, at least you got some free maintenance out of it," chimed in Pete.

"Yeah, but I don't want Wesen thinking they owe me things, so I won't cut off their heads. That guy out there is scared to even speak to me without stammering."

"You want me to talk to him?" asked Pete.

I shook my head. "No. He'll be gone soon. Hopefully he'll feel he's done what he needs to do, and that's the last I'll see of him."

As we finished with breakfast, a knock came from my front door. Bud must have been finished, too. Wonderful. Pete followed me to the door while Chloe went to take a shower.

"Okay, it should be fixed," said Bud as I opened the door. He eyed Pete behind me and had another woge. The clicking of teeth by my ear indicated Pete had reciprocated.

"Two Karnickelhöhles?" Bud seemed puzzled, like I was collecting them.

Pete walked forward and held out his hand. "Pete Haas," he said with a grin. "And you must be Bud, right?"

"Yeah," Bud replied shakily, taking Pete's hand after a moment. "Bud Wurstner."

Oh, crap. Pete was going to talk to him whether I wanted him to or not. This time I openly shook my head.

"Thanks for fixing Renée's porch light. Let's test it out, what do you say, buddy?"

Bud slowly nodded as Pete leaned in the doorway and switched on the light. It came on without a hitch, glowing vibrantly.

I smiled up at the light. "Hey, that looks good."

My eyes met Bud's, and he gave me a half-smile and another small bow. He really needed to stop that. It was creeping me out.

"Bud, come on in a moment. Have a cup of coffee with us. I insist!" Pete smiled brightly at Bud, who seemed to relax a bit.

"Yeah, well, just one cup, sure. Thanks!"

Pete ushered the Eisbiber inside as I closed the door behind us. What the heck was Pete going to do now?

He poured Bud a cup of coffee and refilled his mug as I hovered between the living room and the dining room. Finally I sat down in the chair beside Pete.

Pete began chatting up Bud like one of his patrons at Phoenix Hill Tavern. Pete was good at small talk. He could get anyone to open up, and he always saw the good in people. I'd always liked that about him. The Eisbiber finally seemed completely relaxed as he drank his coffee.

"So, Louisville. Wow, that's a distance!" Bud commented after Pete had told him this was his first time in Portland.

"That's where Renée is from, too," Pete replied with a warm smile. "My sister and I have been friends with her for a really long time."

"Are you and Nick, related?" asked Bud eagerly.

"Distantly," I replied with a grin. "Very distantly."

"Oh. Well, I hope that he doesn't have to see us anymore. I want you to know I've talked to everyone who knows, and they aren't going to bother either one of you again, I swear. We really don't want you guys upset with us." He shuddered as he said the words.

"Renée isn't like the kind we heard about growing up," said Pete in my defense. "You don't have to be afraid of her. But I'm sure she'd agree that it's not a good idea that the Wesen community know about her. Others probably wouldn't take too kindly that there are Grimms living here, and I don't want to see her get hurt." Pete gave Bud a knowing look as the Eisbiber nodded quickly.

"Right, right, right. No, I understand." Bud turned toward me and mimed zipping his lip. "I'm not telling another soul."

"Thank you for fixing my porch light," I said with a smile. "That thing hasn't worked since I moved here."

Bud beamed at me this time and pulled out a card from his pocket. "Well, if you ever need repairs, don't hesitate to call. I'll give you a fair price and I do honest work. I'm especially good at refrigerators, as you see there on the card." He gestured as he passed the business card to me. "See? Wurstner's Refrigerator Repair. That's my shop. Same day service."

I smiled. "Great, thanks again."

Bud had another cup of coffee as he and Pete chatted about sports while I tidied up the living room. Apparently Bud was a big Oregon Beavers fan. I held back laughing at the irony.

"Thanks for your hospitality, Miss Davenport," said Bud as he stood up to leave. "It is Miss, right?"

I nodded. "But you can just call me Renée."

"Okay. Well, thank you again, uh, Renée," he stammered my name out. "Please call if you need me for anything."

I walked him to the door and as I closed it, I turned to Pete.

"Ya see?" Pete said with a grin. "I knew he'd be fine after I talked to him."

I shook my head. "You just couldn't leave well enough alone could you?"

"But now he's not afraid of you. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, but…"

"Now you've got yourself a repairman. And you know Eisbiber are hard workers."

I sighed. "Thanks so much, Pete." I kept the sarcasm to a minimum.

"Just helping out." He shot me another grin.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Chloe had emerged from upstairs and seemed to be feeling much better. I glanced at my watch. There was a Jack countdown ticking away and we still had no idea how to convince him that he was imagining things. I wasn't sure what to do next.

"So, you wanna go give Mr. Wolf-face and his new foxy lady friend a surprise visit?" Chloe asked with a devious grin.

I held on to my smile. "No, I trust him, Chloe."

"Right…" she condescendingly replied.

"I really do!"

"And what did he say when you smelled like Fuchsbau?" she reminded me.

"Uh, well it's different when you can smell it, I'm sure," I said.

Monroe was none too happy that night I came home from yoga smelling like Mr. Foxy Loxy. But nothing had happened, just as I was sure nothing was happening with that no good, vixen of a … I paused my thoughts and let the calm wash over me. Why did Chloe have to bring it up again?

"Call him back. Let him know you know," Chloe chided. "And put him on speaker phone 'cause I wanna hear."

"I won't put him on speakerphone," I smirked. "But I will call him."

"It's fine. I don't need the speaker phone," she smirked back in reply as her ears elongated.

"Don't," I warned quickly.

Chloe retracted. "Fine, but you take all the fun out of it," she grinned.

I dialed Monroe again.

"Hey, how are you?" Monroe asked.

"Good. Everything okay with your _person of interest_?" I asked with a tinge of sarcasm.

"Yeah, still with them. It's going fine." Monroe answered without hesitation.

"Wait a minute… Do I smell something? Hang on." I exaggerated sniffing the air. "Are you out with a… Fuchsbau?" I asked, trying not to laugh.

"How'd you…? Nick told you, didn't he?" I imagined his scowl on the other side of the phone.

"No, your sense of smell is rubbing off on me," I persisted, and I sniffed again. "I'm getting a female..." I sniffed some more, "from Seattle?"

"Yeah, yeah. Very funny."

"You could've just told me," I said.

"Well, it sounded bad to say I was spending the night at a strange woman's house."

"No, it sounded worse finding out you were spending the night at a strange woman's house from someone else." I shook my head even though he couldn't see it.

"Yeah, umm… Okay, that does sound worse," Monroe admitted. "Sorry about that."

"I won't keep you, but I really did call to make sure you were okay," I said, but that really wasn't why I'd called.

"Yeah, I'm doing great, don't worry. I'll call you later."

"You're just itching to know what she looks like," Chloe grinned as I put my phone in my pocket.

"No…" But I really did.

"Hey Pete, let's get ready. We've got a spice shop to go visit," Chloe called out while smiling at me. That direct link to my brain gave her all the info she wanted. I just shook my head.

"Let me put on some makeup first, okay?" I replied.

* * *

A/N: So Bud did some maintenance work and seems a bit more relaxed after his talk with Pete.

Going to the spice shop in the next chapter. Last one today. Enjoy! (:


	68. Chapter 68

**Chapter 68**

I drove up to the spice shop, and Monroe's VW was parked out front.

"This is stupid. I'm going to look like a jealous girlfriend walking in there. That poor woman just lost her brother. She doesn't need a half-Grimm and two rabbits interfering."

"Look over there," Chloe said, pointing to the right. "There's a coffee shop across the street. Buy two cups of coffee and bring them over. Perfect cover. Who can say no to coffee?"

Monroe liked a good cup of coffee, and the place Chloe was referring to made a decent cup that even Monroe would approve of. Okay, this was a good idea. Pete was biting back a smile in the reflection of my rearview mirror. He was trying really hard not to laugh at both of us.

I parked the car, and we walked over to the coffee shop. I hummed 'Girl Next Door' by Saving Jane along the way.

"_There's no way to deny she's lovely__  
__Perfect skin, perfect hair__  
__Perfumed hearts everywhere__  
__Tell myself that inside she's ugly__  
__Maybe I'm just jealous__  
__I can't help but hate her__  
__Secretly I wonder if my boyfriend wants to date her"_

Chloe laughed. "Saving Jane? Wow, I hope this Fuchsbau has good medical insurance."

I stopped humming. Chloe knew my songs better than most. "I'm not going to do anything."

She patted my shoulder as we opened the door. "Just avoid hitting this one's nose this time. That was expensive."

I bought two World Cup Roaster coffees along with a box of assorted pastries. I couldn't look too jealous bringing food and drinks, now could I? Besides, you were always supposed to console people with food when someone died. I was just being… polite. Yeah, even I wasn't buying that one.

As we crossed the street, I juggled the coffees while Chloe carried the pastries and the baggie of cream and sugar for me.

Pete stayed behind the both of us. "Women are funny creatures." He laughed. "No wonder men don't understand them."

I knocked on the spice shop door. It wasn't right to just barge in. The sign on the door read 'Closed,' even though the inside was clearly visible through the glass pane on the front.

A woman a couple of years older than me cracked open the spice shop door. "Sorry, but we're closed," she said, looking at me with the largest brown eyes I'd ever seen. They reminded me more of a deer than a fox, and the color mirrored Freddy's eyes.

"You must be Freddy's sister," I replied quickly. "I think my boyfriend is here with you. I just stopped by with some coffee and some breakfast. Thought you guys might need a little boost."

She paused and then opened the door wider. This Fuchsbau wasn't a vixen at all; at least she didn't dress like one. She was wearing jeans and an orange shirt with a zip-up orange hoodie that was a few shades lighter. Her golden brown hair was pinned up with a plastic clip barrette. Vixens didn't wear plastic barrettes. The Un-Vixen was pretty, but no Marian Rabosa, thank goodness. "Monroe?" she called behind her.

Monroe emerged from a stack of boxes. "Renée!" he said, looking a bit surprised as I walked in with my little consort of bunnies behind me.

Just being back in the spice shop was overwhelming. My eyes traced the space where Freddy had been shot, and I shuddered in spite of myself. A strong scent of bleach hung in the air, and the carpets had been replaced. Perhaps it was too soon for me to come back here. I pressed on my practiced calm to wash the memory away. Some of the shelves were bare, and brown boxes filled the room. Nick had said the Fuchsbau wanted to get back to Seattle, and she was packing fast.

I held out a cup of coffee in Monroe's direction. "I bear gifts!" I smiled, regardless of my uneasiness.

"Coffee?" He smiled, taking the cup from me. "Oh, you read my mind!"

"And one for you…?" I gave the Un-Vixen a look to let her know a name would be nice.

"Rosalee. Rosalee Calvert." She forced a smile. Same last name as her brother's, so she probably wasn't married. The Un-Vixen was troubled, which was understandable, but she was genuine. My abilities, or whatever it was, told me that immediately.

"Here you are, Rosalee." I smiled back. "I hope you're a coffee drinker."

"Yeah, I love coffee," she said, taking the cup. Her face relaxed a bit more. "Thank you so much!"

"There's cream and sugar if you need them." I pointed to the baggie Chloe was carrying.

"And we brought pastries," Chloe came forward, opening the bakery box. "Breakfast of champions!"

"Sorry, these are my friends, Pete and Chloe Haas. They're in town visiting me from Louisville, Kentucky."

"Brother and sister," Pete added quickly, "We're not together." He moved past Chloe and gave Rosalee a smile as he took her hand. "Nice to meet you."

She returned his smile with one of her own.

Monroe seemed to be enjoying his coffee. I had the barista make it exactly how he liked it, and I'd watched them like a hawk to make sure they had made it right. From his contented face it seemed like they had.

Monroe came up to Chloe, and she tensed as he picked out a cherry turnover. "What, no hug?" he joked.

Chloe gave him a blank stare. "Hardly."

He flashed her a sly grin. "Back to being jumpy now that the alcohol is gone, huh?"

"Back to being just as funny as ever, huh?" Chloe replied sarcastically.

I gave them both a look and shook my head.

"Can I help with anything, Rosalee?" Pete offered, ignoring the banter. "Looks like you're packing."

"Yeah, I'm closing the shop and going home to Seattle as soon as I can," she replied.

"Sorry about your brother," I said solemnly, turning my focus back to the Un-Vixen. "He was a really nice guy."

"You knew him, too?" She had a woge then waited for mine. I didn't have a dead leaf to show her my trick. She took a step back and looked at Monroe. "Another Grimm?" she asked him.

I turned and Monroe just looked at me, not knowing how to respond. She must have already experienced Nick other half. Just great. No wonder my vague expression hadn't fazed her.

"It's fine," I turned back to Rosalee. "I really don't like to share that with everyone, so if you could keep it between us, I'd appreciate it," I said while keeping my eyes on her. The Un-Vixen was going back to Seattle soon, so it wouldn't matter much if she knew.

"This just gets more and more complicated." She shook her head. "And are your friends…?"

Chloe and Pete had a woge in unison.

"Karnickelhöhles, okay..." she nodded, but her eyes were still wide and puzzled.

Chloe reached for my arm and gave me a look that said, 'Your low profile officially sucks.'

The jingle of the door startled us all and we turned around. A man in a police uniform walked in, looking quite distressed. I'd seen him before, since I was becoming a regular at the precinct now. He was the sergeant with the bad jokes.

"Hey, I'm supposed to, uhh…" he was breathing heavy like he'd just run over here. "Uh, come down here and, uhh… make sure everything is…"

"You don't look so good," Monroe commented. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Sergeant Out-of-Breath said, shaking his head and sweating profusely. "Never better." And with that, he passed out right on the antique Oriental rug.

"Holy crap!" I rushed over quickly and knelt down.

Monroe swooped down right next to me as the sergeant's face began to fill with puss-filled boils all over. "Oh, God," Monroe said.

"We gotta get him off the ground, now," Rosalee cried, peering over us. Monroe and Pete got him over to a table while Rosalee ran to the back room, returning with a blanket, covering him up. She examined his face, furrowing her brow.

"Oh man, this isn't good!" Monroe remarked as he grasped the back of his neck with his hand and pulled out his cell phone with the other. "I'm calling Nick."

"Now you see, that looks like a Zaubertrank gone wrong," Pete commented. "But, that wouldn't happen to Jack, because I know what I'm doing."

"Zaubertranks?" Rosalee looked interested at Pete. "You know about those?"

"Yeah. I'm a chemist, but I've been doing quite a bit of apothecary work on the side. It's chemistry in another form, so to speak."

"Then come with me, so we can fix this."

"I'm already ahead of you," he said as he and Rosalee started pulling ingredients from boxes and shelves. "We're going to need keim extract."

"On the shelf, over there." She pointed across the room.

I turned back to Monroe, who was still on the phone with Nick, describing the boils on the sergeant's face like an impending volcanic eruption. I was feeling useless, and this guy wasn't foliage, so I wasn't going to try to use my magic on him. Chloe was looking wide-eyed and more useless than I was.

"You don't have to watch this," I told Chloe. "You can go outside if you want to."

"Yeah, this is…" She looked at Sergeant Boils-a-Lot, grimacing as she held her mouth. "I'll be outside if you need anything, trying not to hurl." She quickly shook her head and walked out.

I went back to Pete and Rosalee. "How can I help?"

"Find a sponge. There should be one in the back with the other supplies," Rosalee said, not looking up from the book she was combing over.

"I'm on it." Dashing to the back room, I scanned the metal shelves, quickly finding one still wrapped in plastic. I opened it up and ran back.

"Perfect," said Pete as he handed me a bowl. "We need to apply this to his face." He was still mixing ingredients into a second bowl.

"Sure. Whatever we need to do."

For the next ten minutes I dipped the sponge in the mixture and dabbed it as best I could on the sergeant's boils. They were bursting under the sponge as I worked. Now was not the time to get squeamish, but I was holding back cringing. Pete and Rosalee were still scouring books for the remainder ingredients to whatever they were making in the second bowl. Sergeant Boils-a-Lot screamed as I held the sponge near his cheek, and he shot straight up, scaring the bejesus out of me. I yelped while reaching for him, trying not to spill the bowl in the process.

"Hold him down!" Rosalee yelled out. Monroe ran over as we pressed him back down on the table. "Keep applying that to his face," she said. "We're almost done."

There was another jingle of the door. We turned toward the sound as Nick hurried inside.

Nick looked at Sergeant Boils-a-Lot and his eyes widened. "We need to get him to a hospital," he said urgently.

Rosalee shook her head. "They won't know what to do. They'll read it as one of those mystery infections they can't identify, and he'll die. I've seen this before."

Pete was nodding as she spoke and poured the rest of a bottle into the bowl.

"You're using all of it?" Monroe asked with eyes wide.

"He needs more than this," replied Pete, "but it's all we have."

The sergeant bolted upright again, but I was better prepared and helped him back down. He looked wild-eyed and pushed against me, but Monroe was there to help me again.

"Hurry up, this is not going well," Monroe called out.

"All right, this is done. Someone open his mouth," Pete instructed, making his way over to Sergeant Boils-a-Lot. "Keep him still."

"He's going to drink it?" Nick questioned as he held down the Sergeant's chin.

"If he wants to live, he's gonna have to," Rosalee replied, stirring the mixture once more as Pete held the bowl.

Monroe and I held the sergeant's head while Pete poured the mixture in. Most of the mixture remained in his mouth, but it sent Sergeant Boils-a-Lot upright again, gasping and moaning. We helped him back down as the screaming continued, while his eyes darted back and forth at all of us around him. Rosalee covered his face. Was that for his sake or ours? He seemed to calm down.

Rosalee let out a sigh of relief and so did I.

"So, is he going to be okay?" Nick asked, looking up at Rosalee.

"We just have to wait and see." Her big, brown eyes gave Nick a concerned look as she furrowed her brow. "This is going to take a while to work."

"Monroe, can you check on Chloe for me?" I asked. Monroe gave me an 'Am I really the best person to do that' look, but went outside anyway.

Nick was looking at Pete, like he was trying to will him into a woge.

I did a quick introduction. "Nick this is my friend, Pete Haas."

"Oh, so this is the Grimm," Pete smiled, acknowledging Nick.

Nick narrowed his eyes at me. They were turning gray again.

Pete and Rosalee went back to talking. The clock on the wall of the spice shop read quarter after eleven. So the Jack countdown was close to three hours away. I still had no solution for that.

Chloe and Monroe came in a few moments later.

"Nick, that's Chloe Haas, Pete's sister," I said as Nick and I turned toward the jingle of the door behind us.

"So, this is the Grimm," Chloe said, mirroring her brother.

"Are you just announcing it to everyone?" Nick asked, turning his stormy gray eyes back toward me.

"Sorry. Didn't think _you _had a low profile," I replied with a feigned look of remorse. Since when did he care who knew him or not? "They're the only ones I've told," I assured him.

"So, why are you even here?" Nick continued, his eyes trained on mine. We were back to interrogation mode.

"I brought coffee, and then all hell broke loose. I'm getting good at arriving just before catastrophe strikes," I surmised.

Jessica Fletcher from _Murder She Wrote_ had nothing on me. No matter where I went, something bad happened. Why did people even invite Mrs. Fletcher to their dinner parties? Someone always died when she was there. You'd think they'd wise up and accidentally lose her number. People might start losing mine here soon. I was starting to rack up a death count of my own. I looked over at the Sergeant, watching his chest move up and down. Well, at least he wasn't dead… yet.

"So does she know about you?" Nick whispered, his eyes motioning toward Rosalee.

"Yeah, she kinda figured it out."

Nick flashed a look at Rosalee, who nodded.

"I'm… I'm okay with it," Rosalee said with a gesture of her hand. "Two Grimms in a lifetime. Why not?"

"Hey, I'm up to four now, so…" Monroe said like they were discussing diseases. Monroe caught me glaring at him. "Umm, I mean, not like that's a bad thing or anything, you know?" I relaxed my face.

Rosalee was scanning the shelves. "I have so much left to do," she sighed. Pete was already back to packing boxes.

I moved over to one of the shelves. "I'll get to work on this side." The least I could do was help her pack since I couldn't save her brother. Because of me, she was here packing to begin with. Monroe had told me it wasn't my fault, but the guilt hit again as I looked over at the shelf I'd cowered behind. I slid a few jars in a nearby box. The sooner the Fuchsbau could go back to living her life, the better.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

A couple of laborious hours went by as we helped Rosalee with packing, all the while keeping a close eye on the sergeant. There were way too many people in this small amount of space of the spice shop. Including Sergeant Boils-a-Lot, there were seven of us. I still had an impending catastrophe of a different kind headed my way and still no real plan.

"Maybe I ought to go on and leave. You guys have things under control with the sergeant and I have to face the music with Jack here shortly." I sighed heavily as I taped up the box I'd filled.

"Rosalee might have a solution to Jack," Pete chimed in, smiling wide.

"Pete, I really don't want to mess with a Zaubertrank." I pointed to Sergeant Boils-a-Lot. "You see they're nothing but trouble."

"It's a Verdrängte Erinnerungen." Each syllable enunciated off the Un-Vixen's tongue as she spoke. I tried to work out the German, but it was failing me.

"Supplanting memories? Is that safe, man?" Monroe asked. Thank goodness he was here. It sounded like reformatting someone's hard drive to me.

"It's similar to what I was thinking of using," Pete replied, "but Rosalee says this is less invasive and has a better chance of working long-term."

"So, how is it going to pick out this particular memory and replace it?" I turned to Rosalee to better understand.

"Once the person ingests it, they go into a hypnotic-like state. From there, you can tell the person which memory needs to be erased and replace it with a new one." She gave me a smile. That seemed way too easy, and it still sounded like a dangerous Zaubertrank to me.

"Does anyone want to tell me what any of this is?" Nick spoke out.

"Hey, man. Come with me, and I'll fill you in." Monroe took the young Grimm outside.

"Is this something we can make today, within an hour or so?" I asked Rosalee, looking at the clock again.

"Yeah. It doesn't take that long, and it has a twenty-four hour potency, so if he's supposed to arrive today, you should have ample time to give it to him and make the necessary changes."

"Pete, he's your friend. Do you trust this? I don't want to turn him into a vegetable or anything." But if he did turn into one, I wouldn't feel too awful about it.

"Yeah, Née. This will work. We just gotta find a way for him to drink it."

"And you're okay with doing this for me?" I asked the Un-Vixen.

She nodded. "It's never good when one of us shows themselves to a human, and they have to deal with it. This is just restoring balance, in a way."

Chloe put her hand on my back. "We'll restore the balance," she all but whispered. She knew all that separation drove me mad, and I was biting my tongue as the Un-Vixen spoke.

"Okay," I concluded. "Then let's rewrite some memories."

Pete and Rosalee got to work, pulling more jars.

I turned to Chloe, who had been awfully quiet, considering. This was a new record for her. "Are you doing okay?" I asked.

"This is all just a lot," she admitted, and I gave her a hug. "Unlike you, I'm not used to being around all this."

"See all the fun adventures you miss out on, while you're in Louisville?" I chuckled to clear the air.

"Monroe said you told him about the Blutbad at the mall. I can't believe you didn't tell him about that before, Renée." She lightly punched my arm. "He feels really bad about his jokes. He actually seemed sincere."

"He can be sincere. He's kinda like me, where jokes help fill the void of awkwardness."

"Well, with everything he's done, I can't completely hate him. I might still criticize, but you know that won't go away." Chloe gave me that model smile of hers. What she said was as much of a 'Monroe is good in my book' as any.

"You know you hugged him last night, right?" I asked with a chuckle.

"I did no such thing!" she hissed.

"Yeah, and you called him a hero in plaid, if I recall."

"Fuck, what did you put in those drinks last night, Renée?"

"It was just your standard vodka and orange juice. Maybe you just have some repressed feelings for my boyfriend that came out after a few drinks," I joked.

"Not funny." Chloe clicked a few times in aggravation and I laughed.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

I went outside to find Monroe and Nick still talking.

"…then why not just call it a potion?" Nick was saying as I walked up.

"So did Professor Monroe catch you up on Potions 101?" I asked.

"See?" Nick pointed in my direction. "_She_ called it a potion."

Monroe just shook his head. "It's so much more than that. It's wie durch Zauber. Ein Zaubertrank." He grinned at Nick.

Nick glanced over at me and shook his head while his eyes rolled.

"He's basically saying, 'It's like magic. A magic potion,'" I told Nick. At least there was some German I could still translate.

Nick turned back to Monroe, "And you couldn't have just said that?"

Monroe grinned again. "Umm, I did say that."

"Can I borrow Monroe for a moment?" I asked Nick. He nodded, and Monroe and I took a walk down the sidewalk, so I could have a little privacy.

"Okay, be honest… What are your thoughts on the memory replacer idea?" I questioned Monroe, and then added, "I trust your judgment."

"I don't know, man. Anything that messes with your head has a chance of backfiring. But, I mean, we really don't have a Plan B here, so this is as good as any, you know?"

"Rosalee can call it whatever, but it's still a Zaubertrank, and that worries me."

"Yeah, well, what choice do we really have here?" Monroe tugged at his hair moved forward. "We can't have him crying werewolf, and there's no way in hell I'm letting him near you." He growled faintly. It wasn't the answer I wanted, but I took it.

"So, what are we going to replace this memory with? Do we want him to remember just going to Phoenix Hill Tavern, getting drunk, and going home?"

"No, I want him to remember me having him against that wall." Monroe's eyes flashed red at the memory.

"Monroe, maybe it's best if he doesn't remember us at all there that night. Maybe I shouldn't have even gone out to the bar to begin with." I stopped walking for a moment, looking down at my shoes.

Monroe lifted my chin with his finger, and I was met with his soulful, brown eyes. "You didn't know he'd be there. Dude, it wasn't your fault this happened. I blame myself for letting him get under my skin. This will work itself out, okay?"

I nodded, but I just had trouble believing it.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

We walked back into the spice shop. Sergeant Boils-a-Lot was still unconscious, and Nick was standing over him, watching his covered face. Chloe was sitting in a chair, twirling her blonde hair while engrossed in one of Rosalee's books. Pete and Rosalee were putting bottles and herbs away as we walked up to them. Chloe stood up and walked over by my side.

"It's finished," Pete said with a smile. "Now we just have to wait for Jack."

Rosalee went over the directions again. "After he drinks it, say his name. He should respond. Then say the memory you want him to forget, followed by the memory you want to replace it with. You can do this as many times as needed for each memory. After everything has been said, say his name again followed by, 'wake up.'"

I nodded at the directions. "Can we mix this in anything to get him to drink it?" I could put it in a bottle of Jim Beam. That was a sure thing for Jack to drink.

"It'll be most potent if it's taken on its own," Rosalee replied, handing me a tubular bottle with a cork seal. There was quite a bit of lavender liquid in that glass vial. Lavender was my favorite color, so maybe that was a good sign.

"So, if he doesn't drink it all…?" Monroe asked.

"If you want the best results, get him to drink the whole thing," Rosalee instructed as she packed a few more books into a box.

"I'll jam that bottle down his throat if need be," Chloe said with a smirk.

I glanced up at the clock again; it was almost two. Jack would be here soon if he took the earlier flight. Chloe was getting fidgety, and it was probably best to get home.

"Hey, Honey. I'm going to go back to the house," I said to Monroe. "Rosalee, thank you so much for everything. I really mean that."

Rosalee nodded and smiled. I was a bit sad she was going back to Seattle, but she was here for her brother. I refrained from going back on my own guilt trip again.

"Well, wait a second," said Monroe with concern. "Don't you want me to go with you?"

"If Nick needs you, then stay."

Monroe turned to Nick, who motioned him on with his hands.

"Pete, you coming?" I asked.

"Actually, if it's okay with you guys, then I'm going to stick around and help Rosalee for a while." He grinned at me. "Besides, if that cop needs help, I'm here to do what I can." Maybe I wouldn't have to worry about Pete moving on after all.

"I'll drive your car, Renée." Chloe gave me a knowing grin. "That way you two lovebirds can enjoy each other's company."

I raised an eyebrow. "You sure you know the way back?"

"Yeah, I paid attention," she insisted. I handed Chloe my car keys and she walked out.

"Thank you for watching over me last night, Monroe," Rosalee said with a warm smile.

"No problem," he nodded. "Glad I could help out." He turned to Nick. "I'll have my phone on if you need me. Okay, man?"

"I'm fine Monroe. Thanks for your help."

Monroe and I walked out to the VW. As I got in the car, I made sure the glass vial was secure in my pocket.

"So, surprise coffee delivery, huh?" Monroe shot me a sly grin as we buckled our seat belts. "Did I notice a tinge of jealously in those green eyes of yours?"

"What? Nah." I grinned back. "I know how much you hate Fuchsbaus and all."

Monroe laughed. "Your buddy, Pete, seems to be a fan though."

"A rabbit and a fox. Is that wrong somehow?"

"It goes a little beyond ebony and ivory, but hey, who am I to judge, you know?" Monroe chuckled. "Opposites have a way of attracting sometimes." He smiled in my direction.

"That they do," I agreed, leaning my head against Monroe's shoulder.

Monroe patted my leg. "Just so you know, I don't stray, okay?"

"I'm glad," I said while resting my hand on top of his. "Because I would've hated to have to punch her in the face."

* * *

A/N: Whew! Okay, so we can all cheer Rosalee is in the story! Whee! Renée had a bit of jealousy creep up, but after her history with a female Fuchsbau, it's no wonder, huh?

So as the author, I'll say this... I love, love, love Rosalee! But I hate, hate, hate Monrosalee. Sorry, guys. Just how I roll. Luckily in my story, Monroe is already dating Renée, so Rosalee and Monroe aren't hooking up in my little world. But Pete, however, is making friends rather quickly. Can we say PeteRose? (That one makes me laugh) Or maybe Rosete? Petelee? Anyway... Don't feel bad for Rosalee in this story.

Keeping in time with the Grimm story line… Poor Wu, right? I've always loved this episode, so we'll stop with this chapter for now. Grimm Friday is upon us! Woot!

Comment if you enjoyed. I like comments, they make me happy. lol!

STAY TUNED! (:


	69. Chapter 69

**Chapter 69**

We pulled into my driveway. Chloe had already beaten us there.

"Dude, was she raised in a barn?" Monroe asked as we walked toward the open front door.

Monroe sniffed the air as he let out a growl. The first thing my eyes fixed on were the piles of books scattered all over the floor, but then the rest of the house came into view. The whole place was trashed.

"Holy crap! Chloe where are you?" I called out as we walked inside.

Jack emerged from the kitchen, holding Chloe tightly around the neck with his arm. In his other hand was a large knife. Holy Crap! Chloe was whimpering and trying to catch her breath. He walked her into the living room as his eyes narrowed, giving me a bold and direct stare.

"Renée, you're gonna tell me what all of this is… Is he really a werewolf? Are you all monsters? Is Chloe a monster, too?" He was completely off his rocker. His green eyes were as soulless as the Blutbad at the mall.

"Whoa, dude. Now just slow down a minute." Monroe had his hands out, and we both had eyes on Jack. Monroe seized a fist of my shirt, pulling me behind him.

"I don't want to hear from you, asshole." Jack held his ground. "I wanna hear from Renée. Tell me!"

"Jack, I really can't talk to you when you have my friend hostage, and you have a knife in your hands. Can you please just sit down and we can talk all night if you want to, okay?" I was pleading with him with my eyes again. It hadn't worked before, but hopefully it would now.

Jack wavered a moment, looking like he was trying to take in my words. He shook it off and held the knife up to Chloe's throat. She gasped and had a woge. Oh, please let it be the kind only we could see.

"Man, just put the knife down before someone gets hurt already," Monroe growled.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? You want me unarmed, so you can kill me with all your lycanthropy," Jack snapped back. "Well, guess what, this knife is sterling silver, you fucking werewolf, so think twice before you try anything."

"Is he serious?" Monroe whispered to me.

"Sadly, he is," I softly replied.

"Renée, tell me I'm not crazy!" he demanded.

I'd be lying if I did. He was sure acting crazy to me.

Monroe let out a low, rumbling growl. He was obviously getting tense and didn't want to just stand there. He also hadn't had his workout today, so he was ready to pounce, no doubt.

"Jack, there are many things out there that can't be explained," I began.

"He _is_ a monster then!" Jack tightened his grip on Chloe as he spoke.

"Not exactly, Jack. Can you let Chloe go so we can show you?" I was grabbing at straws now.

"No! You show me now!" Jack yelled.

Chloe was in tears and she looked at me, begging me with her eyes to do something to stop him.

"Renée, I can't hold back any longer," Monroe whispered to me. "He's going to do something stupid here in a moment. Well, stupider than this." He was starting to get a low growl in his throat again and wasn't going let me talk much longer.

I nodded slowly. If Monroe let loose on him, then Jack might hurt Chloe. But if Monroe didn't do anything, then Jack might hurt all of us. Oh, this was too much!

"Jack, this isn't you. You'd never hurt anyone. Please stop!" I urged.

Jack locked eyes with me. He removed the knife from Chloe, but still had a firm grip on the handle.

Monroe saw his chance and leapt out at Jack, taking him off guard. Jack let go of Chloe as he cursed loudly and tried to hold Monroe off of him. They both slammed into my bookshelf before hitting the ground. Chloe ran toward me, and I held her as both men struggled to gain control. It was déjà vu all over again as the night in my backyard now played out in my living room. Monroe had him down pretty easily, pressing his shoulders into my carpet. Without warning, Jack jerked his right hand up, taking the knife to Monroe. I screamed out, but it was too late and the blade pierced his side. Monroe howled loudly in pain. His howl changed to a roar and he punched Jack hard in the face, which knocked him out cold as Monroe slumped backward.

"Monroe! Oh, my God!" I cried as I ran to him. I fell by his side, cradling his head. He looked up into my eyes and tried to grin.

"I'm getting really tired of your ex," he lightly chuckled, but then the coughing began. Blood was seeping out from his mouth. His head sank back into my arms.

"Stay with me, Honey!" I begged, reaching for Monroe's hand. "Chloe, grab some towels quick and the first aid kit from the bathroom!" I ordered. Chloe ran off to find what I'd asked for.

I pulled Monroe's vest and shirt back to inspect the damage. His clothes were covered in blood where the knife had hit him. The wound was deep and he was bleeding out all over.

"Monroe, you're going to be okay," I assured him, but it was as much for my sake as it was for his.

"I'm not sure, Renée. I think he got me pretty good, man." He was struggling to talk.

"Conserve your energy," I said, stroking his face and brushing his wild, curly hair away from his forehead.

"Chloe!" I screamed out and her footsteps pounded behind me.

"Here are towels and the kit," she panted.

What the fuck was I going to do? I forced the calm to enter me, so I could do something. I poured peroxide over the wound and held the towel firmly in place, but the towel was getting soaked in blood. Monroe was losing consciousness.

"I'm calling 911," Chloe told me as she got up and searched for her phone.

"Renée… Man, if I don't make it, just know that I…" and he passed out. He passed out, that's what happened. He's not…

"MONROE!" I screamed!

I put my hands on him and closed my eyes tight. My uncle had healed my scar by touching me; maybe I could do the same thing? I had no choice but to try. I thought of healing, and I pulled everything within me that I could muster to fix what Jack had destroyed.

"Renée, what on Earth is going on?!" Chloe said, but I didn't open my eyes. I just kept thinking about fixing Monroe.

"Renée!" Chloe screamed out! That was all that was said as everything went dark.

* * *

A/N: Whoa, right? So this fight with Jack didn't go as planned, huh? Will Monroe be okay? Read the next chapter to find out... dun, dun, dun...


	70. Chapter 70

**Chapter 70**

"Pulse is coming back up." An unfamiliar voice called out as I opened my eyes. I was looking into the blue eyes of a woman in a paramedic uniform, who smiled at me as she gave me a shot of something in the arm. I briefly thought of my mom the Grimm. Was I in a hospital? My eyes darted around, searching my surroundings. No, too small to be a hospital. I caught sight of blue and red flashing lights from the wide opening in front of me. The lights were coming from a patrol car and I could make out my porch and my car. I was in an ambulance.

"You're going to be okay," the paramedic assured me.

"Monroe… Is he…?" My throat was dry, and I coughed out the words.

"Your boyfriend and friend are fine," she replied.

I tried to sit up, but my head was spinning. Jack. Where was Jack?

"Don't try to move yet," the paramedic cautioned. "You passed out from all the stress. Give yourself a moment before you try to get up."

"Renée!" Chloe said while rushing over to me. "Are you okay?"

"I'm kinda woozy, but other than that I'm fine. Where is Monroe? Is he okay? Did they take him to the hospital?"

"I'm fine," Monroe's voice said behind me and I turned my head to his beautiful, brown eyes looking down at me. His blood stained clothes were replaced with a gray t-shirt that he'd accidentally left at my place weeks ago. Another plaid shirt lost to blood. Maybe we could salvage it? I tossed the idea. I sat up slowly and reached for him. The hug almost crushed me, but I didn't want to let go.

"Monroe, I thought I'd lost you!" I cried as the tears began.

"You can't lose me that easily. But we need to have a talk, you know, alone," he said as his eyes widened toward the paramedic.

Chloe reached for my hand. "Renée, we were so worried."

"Is she safe to go now?" Monroe asked.

"Yeah, if she can sit up okay, her vitals seem fine."

Monroe helped me up and we slowly walked to the house. As we stepped through the front door, the flashback of what had happened hit me full force. My living room was a total disaster. Jack had managed to rummage through everything in my home, most likely looking for something that would make him understand what he saw at the bar that night. I didn't even want to see the other rooms. I hovered in the doorway. Jack. What happened to him?

"Where's Jack?" I asked hesitantly. Maybe the police had him outside. I looked at Monroe. Did he 'take care' of him like he'd done with the Reapers? Oh, God…

"Well, that's kinda the thing," Monroe said as he turned to look at Chloe, who was right behind me.

"What?" I turned to look at them both.

They uncomfortably looked at one another.

"You tell her. She's your friend," Monroe told Chloe.

"Maybe you oughta say it. You're her boyfriend."

"Would one of you please tell me?" I asked them both.

"Jack's out cold… in your bedroom," Monroe finally said. "But don't worry, he's tied up, so…" He made a strained face. "And, well, the police will probably want you to come to the station. They mentioned they'd need statements on what happened tonight."

"What the hell was he even doing here?" I asked.

"I don't know," said Chloe. "He grabbed me when I walked in the house and started demanding answers. When I didn't have the ones he wanted, the asshole dragged me into your kitchen and pulled a knife from your knife block on the counter."

"Those things aren't made of sterling silver," scoffed Monroe. "And I should know since I bought them."

"Monroe, I really don't think that matters," I replied, shaking my head slowly. "I really need to sit down," My head was still spinning and this roller coaster ride of my emotions needed to come to a stop before I threw up.

Chloe and Monroe escorted me to the couch as Chloe hurriedly put the cushions back in place and found a pillow to put behind my head as I sat down.

"Okay, so Jack is knocked out in my bedroom," I began, "And you're okay?" I turned to Monroe.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I feel really good, actually."

I turned my head toward Chloe. "So, what else happened exactly?"

"I called 911 after you passed out and then while I was on the phone, I noticed Monroe was awake, so I told them there was an intruder, we had a struggle, and that you were unconscious. They sent an ambulance and the police. Hell, Renée, I had no clue what happened to you and I was freaked out." She reached for my hand. "Monroe and I put Jack in your room and covered up the blood as best we could before they arrived. We told the police the intruder ran out, and fortunately the cop didn't go into your bedroom." Chloe shook her head, holding her arms around her.

I didn't need a direct link to my friend's brain to tell that all this was too much for my rabbit friend to take. She was a mess and was still pretty freaked out. With everything she'd seen today I wouldn't be surprised if Chloe didn't try to take me back home with her. Granted, Jack wasn't a Portland issue, but Chloe had heard enough things from me to warrant her high tailing me out of this town.

My eyes went toward my closed bedroom door. I didn't want to think about having to go in there. When Jack woke up he was gonna be pissed. Oh, no. The glass vial! I reached in my pocket, pulling it out.

"We didn't have any time to give it to him yet," Monroe said. "He's not in any condition to take it anyways. My guess is he's probably going to be comatose for a while."

"Did you call Nick?" I asked while putting the vial back in my pocket. I really wanted law enforcement here, but the ones outside wouldn't understand. Nick was the only one suitable for this kind of job.

"Nick couldn't leave, but I let him know what happened," Monroe said. "He had to stay with Rosalee and your friend Pete. That sergeant dude is still, umm, marinating at the spice shop."

"So, tell us. What was the glowing thing you did with your hands?" Chloe blurted out as I leaned back into the couch.

"Glowing thing?" I asked. What the hell was she talking about?

"When you saved Monroe. You put your hands on him and a green light came out."

"Chloe I have no clue what I did. I was just trying anything to save him." I directed my attention to Monroe. "My uncle healed my scar with his hands, so I just thought I'd…"

My head was spinning again. I held my forehead, closing my eyes. What was that balance thing Pete had mentioned? Maybe I'd killed a Wesen somewhere else by helping Monroe. I didn't want to think about the ramifications of my actions right now, and I pushed the negative thoughts aside.

"Well, whatever it was, there's not even a scratch on me," Monroe said, and I opened my eyes back up to turn in his direction.

"Nothing?" I asked. How could that be?

He lifted his gray t-shirt to show me. There was dried blood crusted on his skin, but the side of his chest where Jack had entered the knife was just fine. I touched his skin just to make sure I wasn't imagining all this.

"I don't know what you did, Renée, but you saved my life, dude." Monroe gave me a look of pure admiration. He pulled me toward him, and I held him tightly.

"What time is it anyway?" I asked.

Why the hell was Jack already here when we got back? I was excellent at planning, and all this had thrown everything I calculated out the window.

Monroe glanced down at his watch. "It's almost five."

"That late? I've really got to stop passing out." I forced a chuckle while holding my head once more.

An officer walked in and looked at us on the couch.

"We need you three to come to the station, if you please. We'll need to get your statements about what happened." Oh, Hell. More fucking statements. His eyes scanned my mess of a house. A pit formed in my stomach at the wreckage. Part of me wanted to shoo everyone out so I could clean up.

"Would it be too much to ask if we do this in the morning?" I pleaded to the officer with my eyes.

"Yes, of course." The officer nodded. "But please come by in the morning," he stressed. I assured him I would and leaned back into the couch, clutching my hand to my head as he closed my door behind him. I was going to get my own parking spot at the precinct if I kept this up. It was quiet in my house. Too quiet. I glared at the bare spot on my wall above an empty shelf. An empty shelf instead of my cuckoo. Monroe noticed where my eyes were.

"Okay, Renée, now don't worry. I can fix it." Monroe said before I even had a chance to say anything. I shot up out of my seat.

"That fucking, son of a bitch!" I yelled. I was already headed toward my bedroom before Chloe or Monroe had a chance to stop me. I flung open the door as hands gripped my shoulders, pulling me back. Gasping, I put a hand to my mouth. It was like a tornado had passed through my bedroom. The contents of my shelves and dressers had exploded onto the floor. In the center of it all was my ex, who was sprawled out on my bed. On _my_ bed! Tied up with… my panty hose? He wasn't stirring. I was close to hyperventilating as the reckless surge burned through me.

"Now just take it easy," Monroe said while keeping me reigned in. "We don't wanna do anything rash."

"_We_ aren't going to do anything. I'm gonna kill him," I said adamantly. I tried to move forward, but Monroe's strong hands kept me held back.

"Just, umm… Let's just sit down, okay?"

I turned as Monroe reached for the bedroom door, pulling it shut. I was ushered back to the living room as Chloe and Monroe motioned me forward.

"Why must he destroy everything?" The tears came again, and I collapsed back on the couch.

"I'll take care of the cuckoo," Monroe repeated as he reached for my back, rubbing soothingly.

"It's not just the damn cuckoo," I wiped at my eyes. "He fucking… fucking…" I fumed until I was coughing and crying. The words wouldn't even come out. Closing my eyes, I evened out my breaths. In and out. In and out. Breathe in calm, breathe out tension. Finally, the reckless rage subsided.

When I opened my eyes, Monroe was giving me an odd look. He'd never seen me this angry, I'm sure it was beautiful sight.

"I'm so sorry," I said. "This never should've happened to you."

Chloe pointed a finger at me. "Renée, don't apologize for that ass."

"She's, right. It's not your fault."

I leaned against Monroe as my gaze remained on my bedroom door. Jack had tried to destroy Monroe. More than likely he'd actually accomplished it, but somehow I'd been able to bring Monroe back. I held my hands out, flipping them over slowly. What else was I able to do?

Chloe called her brother to update him on the Jack situation. Pete updated us on Sergeant Boils-a-Lot. He said that the sergeant's face was better, but he still looked like a thirteen year old with a bad case of acne. Pete and Nick had carried the unconscious sergeant back to his apartment and they were over there now with Rosalee. Unlike his sister, Pete seemed thrilled to be involved with this. Being with the Fuchsbau probably didn't hurt, either.

"Can Nick come by?" I asked Pete through the speaker phone.

"Sorry, Née, but this is gonna take some time."

"Does he realize I've got Jack tied up on my bed?"

"Then he isn't going anywhere," Nick called out. "I'll be there when I can, but I've got my hands full right now."

I scowled into the phone. "Well, call us when you can pencil me into your schedule, Mr. Detective." I pushed the end call button on Chloe's phone. That man rubbed me like sand on a sunburn.

Monroe resumed rubbing my back. "Renée, it'll be okay."

A faint moan came from my bedroom.

My eyes rolled as we all turned our heads toward the bedroom door. "Oh, it's just going to be great."

* * *

A/N: Okay... So Renée can do more than just bring leaves back to life. Interesting... Monroe is safe! (everyone cheer)

But the cuckoo! Oh, noooooz!

Now she has a tied up Jack in her bed... And Nick's a bit busy trying to catch two Skalengecks to come to her rescue. (Since Island of Dreams is still going on)

We'll pause here for now...

STAY TUNED! (:


	71. Chapter 71

**Chapter 71**

"Now what do we do?" Chloe moaned quietly as the noises amplified in my bedroom.

"If he's waking up, then we need to get the Verdrängte Erinnerungen in him, like, as soon as possible," said Monroe.

"And just how do we do that?" Chloe snorted. "I'm sure he's going to want to drink some mystery liquid while he's all tied up."

"I'll get him to drink it," I said quickly.

Chloe stared blankly at me. "It won't work."

"You don't even know what I'm going to do yet." Our brain links weren't that good, and besides, I didn't have a plan for her to reject yet.

"Renée, I know you and your reckless ideas." She shook her head. "He can just sit in there and scream his damn head off if he wants to until that Grimm gets here."

"Sure, because my neighbors won't mind someone screaming their lungs out for help for however long it takes Nick to _bother_ to stop by."

"Hey now. Nick will come as soon as he can," Monroe interjected, resting his hand on my arm. "Maybe I should, you know, punch him again to shut him up?"

"We're not punching him."

Chloe shot me a sly grin. "You wanted to kill him, so why not let Monroe punch him?"

I let out a deep sigh and pulled out the vial. "Because he can't drink this if he's knocked out."

"Well, _we're_ not giving it to him." Chloe crossed her arms. "The Grimm can do it."

I shook my head. "Jack's had a run-in with Nick before. He isn't going to take it from him, either."

A loud "Ooooow!" resounded from my bedroom.

"Umm, well he's gotta drink it somehow," Monroe said as he stood and ran his hand to the back of his neck. "I think I bought a funnel at Bed Bath and Beyond." He held his hand to his bearded chin. "I could go get that."

"No, we won't need that." I shook my head at him. "Like I said, I'll get him to drink it."

"Renée, we only get one shot at this," Chloe warned, "so if he spits it out then we're screwed."

"He'll drink it," I said confidently.

Monroe wiped his hands against his jeans. "Oh man. I really don't want you going in there."

I glanced up at Monroe. "He's tied up, he can't do anything," I reminded him. "If he does, _then_ you can hit him again." I forced a smile.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

I was pumped up on liquid fire in my veins. I wanted this over. As I slowly turned the doorknob, Jack groaned loudly. Upon opening the door, Jack's eyes were still closed, but he was shifting on the bed as more grunts and whines came out of him.

Monroe and Chloe remained right behind me.

"Don't make a sound," I told them both and slipped the vial back in my pocket.

I walked a few steps into my bedroom, then turned and shut the door quickly, locking it before they could say a word. A few teeth clicks and a low growl echoed on the other side of the door. Oh, I was gonna get an ear full for this one. I took in a breath and edged toward Jack. I was a gal without a plan, with only my recklessness to guide me on.

"Aaargh!" Jack cried out.

I knelt beside him as he groaned again. I rubbed my hand gently up and down his arm. Jack's green eyes flew opened and terror filled them. He thrashed about on my bed.

"What the fuck have you done?" he yelled out.

"Shh…" I said soothingly.

"Renée, I swear you fucking better… Ooow! Dammit!" He'd moved his head too quickly. The welt on his forehead was already purple. He was lucky Monroe hadn't crushed his skull in with that punch.

"You got hit pretty hard, Jack. Try not to turn your head and it won't hurt as much."

Jack kept his head still, but his eyes darted around the room. "Why am I tied up in your bedroom?" His eyes locked back on me. "You better let me go right now, I fucking mean it, Renée!"

"I'm sorry I had to tie you up, but I need to you to hear me out without reacting. If you listen and calm down, then I'll let you go."

The faint growl behind my bedroom door distracted me. Monroe wasn't happy with what I'd said, no doubt, but he needed to trust me on this. Jack didn't seem to hear Monroe, thank goodness.

"Can you calm down?" I rubbed his arm again. Whenever he was sick, I'd always rub his arm as we lay in bed. Hopefully it would relax him enough so he'd shut the hell up.

"Yeah, fine," he replied in a quieter voice. "Where did the werewolf go?" Panic traced Jack's face. "Where is he?"

"In the other room," I somberly replied. "You stabbed him and he's dead." Tears welled up in my eyes, conveying I was telling the truth.

"He's a monster. I know what I saw that night. He had red eyes, Renée. Red _fucking_ eyes! And sharp teeth, and fur, and… Ooow!" Jack was getting agitated, flailing on the bed, and bobbing his head around again.

"You're not crazy." I held my breath and then continued. "He's a wolf."

Jack's eyes widened at my words. "But, it's not possible though, right? That stuff is…"

"…something out of a fairy tale?" I finished his thought and shook my head. My hand was in my pocket, rubbing the glass vial with my fingers. Oh, this better work if I was telling him this.

Jack stopped moving and remained frozen at my words.

I sat closer beside him on the bed. "There are creatures in this world, Jack. People aren't always people. I've been able to see them all my life. Monroe is a wolf-like creature. He looks human, but that night at the bar he forced his true form to scare you since you were..." I sighed. "Well, you know how you are when you're drunk."

"So it's true… everything I researched? He's a werewolf?"

"In a way, yes." Blutbaden, werewolves… I wasn't going to get into semantics. "Well, he _was_ until you killed him," I softly added.

"He's really dead?"

I nodded slowly.

"Well, good," Jack said smugly. I kept my face smooth, but I wanted to punch the other side of his head. How dare he! I pressed on my practiced calm to keep the thoughts back. "So, those drawings in that notebook of yours…" he continued. "They were all...?"

"Yeah. That's how they look when I see them." Jack was smarter than I thought. "They don't look that way all the time, just when they're emotional. But most humans see them just like they're normal people, except when they want to be seen. Monroe wanted you to see him that night."

"So what are you? Are you a monster, too?"

"No," I replied with a wave of my hand. "I just have the ability… this extra sensory vision to see them."

"So, you see these things all the time?"

I nodded again. In a weird way, letting Jack know my secret was freeing. Sure, it was going to be erased from his memory here shortly, but for now it was good to let the secret out.

"Why didn't you tell me all this before?"

"Would you have believed any of it if I had?"

"Uhh… Well, it's kinda…"

"Yeah, that's why I didn't tell you."

I glanced at his bruise as I frowned. "But that horrible wolf wounded you something awful tonight. I pegged him completely wrong." I reached for his forehead and he struggled again. My hand lightly ran through his hair and across his forehead, while I looked lovingly into his eyes. God, it sickened me to do it. "I can't believe he hurt you this badly."

Jack relaxed under my hand and that twinkle passed across his eyes. "Yeah, he beat me pretty hard. I'm in a lot of pain, Babe."

He was buying it, hook, line and sinker. I needed an Oscar for this performance.

"Oh, it looks awful, Jackie Bear." The endearment left an acidic taste in my mouth. Jack's eyes softened at the words. "I'm going to get you something for the pain, okay? I've got a liquid pain killer that ought to do the trick."

"What I need is a stiff drink."

My fingers caressed his cheek. "We can do that later, but you need medicine right now."

Jack nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay."

I stood and went to the bathroom. Pulling out the vial, I searched for something else to put it in. There was no way he was going to take it from this thing. Dixie cups. I had a packet of small ones for mouthwash. Perfect. I emptied the contents into one of the paper cups, said a small prayer that he would drink it, and went back into the bedroom.

I sat back down on the bed next to Jack as I held the small cup in my hands, trying to keep them steady. "I'm going to untie you, but you gotta promise me you'll relax and stay in here with me. I need you here with me right now," I said as sweetly as I could muster.

Jack nodded. I loosened the pantyhose and Jack rubbed his head as I worked on the bonds around his legs. He sat quietly for a moment and I leaned against his arm.

"Jackie Bear, I'm so sorry this happened. Can you forgive me?" I asked.

He kissed my forehead and I held back cringing. "I want to. But I need you to come back home." He put his arm around me. I ignored the knots in my stomach and angled toward him with the 'pain killer' in my hand.

"You're right. I think I should go back." I forced a wide smile. "It's better in Louisville."

"I've missed you so much, Kitten." He leaned in and kissed me on the lips. It was all I could do not slap him.

The Dixie cup sloshed a bit in my hands. Holy crap! I couldn't afford to spill it! I slowly pulled away from the kiss and smiled up at him. His green eyes were fixed on mine as he grinned at me.

"Here's some liquid Tylenol," I causally said while handing him the cup. "It's not a lot, but the liquid works faster than the pills."

He looked into the cup. "It's purple."

"Yeah. I think it's grape flavored," I replied with a shrug.

"So, these creatures… How many more of them are there?"

"I don't know how many. They're everywhere. Remember our dentist, Dr. Kalkon? He was a turkey-like creature."

"No way. A Turkey? There's different animals?"

"Yeah, many different animals... and other types, too."

"This is just... insane," said Jack as he drank down the liquid in one gulp. "Ugh..." He coughed loudly. "It doesn't taste like grape, it tastes like..." Jack fell back on the bed, glassy-eyed.

I stood immediately. "Jackass," I muttered as I wiped at my mouth. I moved to the bedroom door. Monroe and Chloe almost fell in as I opened it.

"Why the hell did you lock the door, Renée?" Monroe exclaimed as he grabbed my arm.

"Sorry. I couldn't risk you coming in, or him trying to get out."

"Did he drink all of it?" Chloe asked while pushing past me.

"Yeah, now we gotta move quickly."

Monroe looked me over with his eyes a bold red. "Jackie Bear? You didn't seriously call him that."

"Pet names are usually stupid."

"And what the hell was all that about me being a horrible wolf?"

"I had to say something so he'd trust me."

"Yeah, okay. But, you know, you didn't have to tell him I died."

"He had to think he succeeded."

"Don't remind me."

"Guys, you can discuss that later," Chloe said with a scowl. "Right now we need to focus on the fuckwad in the bed."

The three of us hovered over Jack.

"So, umm, how do we do this?" Monroe whispered.

"Rosalee said to say the person's name, and then just mention what needs to be forgotten, then say what it needs to be replaced with." It still sounded too easy.

"Well, go on then," Monroe coaxed.

"Jack," I said loudly.

"Yes," he replied in a slow, monotone voice. He wasn't blinking, and his glassy eyes were staring straight forward toward the ceiling.

I looked back to Monroe, who was waving me on to continue.

"That night you saw me and Monroe at Phoenix Hill Tavern, you need to forget we were there and what you saw. Instead, you got so drunk with your buddies that you were making up wild stories, and now you can't even remember those stories you told everyone. But you know it was just the alcohol talking, and that's what you're going to tell everyone if they ask."

"I was drunk with my buddies… I made up stories... Just the alcohol," Jack repeated in an almost robotic-like voice, never blinking.

"And, Jack... You need to forget about the reason why you came to Portland and everything that happened at my house tonight. You need to forget about the notebooks, all your research, holding Chloe hostage, the fight with Monroe, and what you and I talked about. Instead, you came to Portland to..." I hesitated. What the hell could I replace the memory of tonight with?

"You came to Portland to apologize to Renée for being such a dick," Chloe chimed in. "You arrived here at her house tonight to let her know you're moving on and this is the last time she'll ever see you again, but you tripped outside and hit your head on the front stairs because you're clumsy. All the research you did about werewolves was for a novel you were writing, but when you go home you're going to throw it all away, because you suck at writing and are giving it up."

"I was such a dick... Last time she'll see me... Hit my head... Clumsy… Suck at writing," Jack repeated slowly.

I flashed my eyes up at Chloe, who was practically glowing with satisfaction. Monroe just shook his head.

"So, is that it?" I whispered to Monroe and Chloe.

They both shrugged in unison. I closed Jack's eyelids. His zombie eyes were incredibly creepy.

"What if it doesn't work?" asked Chloe.

Monroe scratched his beard. "Then we tie him back up and wait for Nick."

"It's gotta work," I said aloud, more for my own benefit than anything.

"Let's carry him into the living room," Monroe suggested. "If he wakes up in here that's gonna seem kinda weird."

I nodded. "You get his head, we'll get his feet."

The three of us lifted Jack and dragged him to the living room and over to my couch.

"Jack," I said after we put him into a sitting position. "Wake up."

Jack's eyes popped open. He jerked his head around to all of us watching him, and then grabbed his head. "Those concrete steps hurt like hell," Jack whined.

"Yeah, you took a nose-dive," I said while steadying my voice.

"Whoa, what happened here?" He looked at the mess of my living room.

"Some asshole broke in and trashed her place earlier today," Chloe said harshly.

"Oh..." Jack replied. "Damn, Renée. I hope they find the douchebag that did this."

I sighed. "I'm filing a report."

Jack looked concerned. We were all still staring at him.

"Do you know why you're here?" Chloe asked.

"Yeah, I came here to apologize." He rubbed his temple. "I know I've been a dick since we broke up," he said while turning his eyes toward me, "and I wanted to personally come here and tell you I'm sorry." His green eyes looked the most sincere I'd ever seen them. Funny how it took a potion for that to happen. "You won't be seeing me again after this. It won't be easy, but I'm moving on."

"Thanks, Jack," I said, biting the inside of my cheek.

"You deserve to be happy, Renée," he pointed to Monroe, "and if he makes you happy then... Well..." He shook his head, like he was fighting saying it.

"That means a lot, Jack," I replied. "Thank you."

"So, dude, if that's all you wanted to tell her, then maybe you oughta, you know, head on out." Monroe motioned to the front door with his hand.

Jack glared at Monroe, but he didn't reply. He was wobbly as he stood and shook himself. "Dammit, that fall got me good." His hands went back to his head. "I'm so clumsy sometimes." Chloe faintly chuckled and I glared at her.

"Yeah, you've got a pretty big bump on your head," I replied.

"I need to call a taxi." Jack stood up straighter. "That's how I got here."

"Allow me," said Monroe while pulling out his cell phone. The cab company told Monroe they'd arrive in fifteen minutes. That was fifteen minutes more than I wanted to wait.

Jack sat back down on the couch and I balled my fists as I stood up.

"You got a beer?" Jack asked.

"Yeah..." I gritted my teeth and stomped into the kitchen with Monroe right on my heels.

He leaned against the kitchen counter. "So, umm, I think it worked. That's good at least," he said as I opened my fridge and pulled out a few bottles of Rogue. "I mean, it's not good he's on your couch, but at least he doesn't remember anything."

"Yeah, but he's... It's..." The filing cabinet drawers in my head were slamming in and out in a fury. I hastily snapped off the beer lids, envisioning they were Jack's head.

Monroe reached for my arms and rubbed them. "We can survive until the taxi comes. It'll be brief."

I nodded, but I wanted him off my couch and out of my fucking house.

We returned to the living room and Jack gave me a half-smile. Chloe was sitting in the chair, giving her hair a twirl and pursing her lips.

I passed out the beers and took a long drink of mine. Hovering as I drank a few sips, I finally sat on the opposite end of the couch from Jack, who was peeling the label off his bottle. He only did that when he was nervous. Monroe sat on the arm of the couch next to me. It was too awkward, too quiet. Where the hell was that taxi?

"What flight did you take from Louisville today?" I asked Jack, breaking the silence. It made no sense that he was here before we expected him.

"I took a flight yesterday," Jack replied, looking up from his shredded label. "I got in around ten last night and found a hotel."

So, Pete was wrong. Okay, it wasn't my logic, it was Pete. Good.

"Chloe, why are you here?" Jack asked, turning his eyes toward her.

"I'm visiting," she curtly replied. "It's what friends do. We visit."

Jack took a swig of beer. "Sorry I asked."

I couldn't handle sitting this close to him, so I got up and organized some of my books back on the shelf. Monroe came over to help me.

"Hey, is that the same TV we looked at getting?" Jack asked from behind me as I finished organizing the books on the top shelf.

"Yeah," I replied without turning.

"You said that it was too big and expensive when I wanted to get one."

I actually grinned. "My perspective changed." Thank goodness he hadn't broken that, too.

A pair of headlights lit up my curtains followed by a honk. Thank God. I shot up from my knees and headed for the front door.

"Taxi's here," I said brightly.

Jack stood and downed the rest of his beer, setting the bottle on the coffee table.

"Well, I guess this is it." He shuffled slowly toward the door, with a melancholy expression. Suddenly he hugged me. I caught a glimpse of Monroe's woge and Chloe jumping up to reach for his arm. "I'm going to miss you, Renée," said Jack as he held me. I patted his back hesitantly a few times and he finally let go.

"Goodbye, Jack," I said with an even tone while holding the door open.

Jack walked down the stairs and toward the taxi. I slammed the door shut, collapsing against it.

Monroe rushed over with a growl. He laid a hand on my shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. "Dude, if he had done anything more than hugged you..."

"Well, thank goodness he didn't," I replied weakly. Monroe didn't need to know about the kiss. He didn't need to know about Pete's kiss yesterday, for that matter. Wow, I was becoming a tramp.

I looked up at my boyfriend the wolf and my friend the rabbit, trying not to cry. "I can't be here right now." I moved back toward my disaster of a living room. "Where is my cuckoo?" I asked Monroe.

He sighed as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I'll show you, but you can't get upset. I promise it's fixable, okay?"

I nodded bleakly. He went to the exercise room and reappeared with my clock in his hands. The front part was broken off, the hour hand was missing, and the bird was hanging at an angle. I didn't even want to know what had happened to the thing-a-ma-bobs and doo-hickeys inside. Tears welled up in my eyes. I didn't want to cry, but I couldn't help it.

He set the clock down on my coffee table. "Now, Hun, I already know ways to fix it where it looks like new. You know I'm good at what I do. I'll take care of it."

I moved toward Monroe, hugging him as I buried my face in his chest, muffling my cries of nonsense with some four letter words about Jack thrown in.

While Monroe bundled up my clock, Chloe stood and embraced me as I let out a sob. This whole day had been one, long nightmare.

* * *

A/N: Wow, so Jack's memory was taken care of and maybe (maybe?) this is the last we'll see of Renée's crazy ex. He got one last kiss before he left though. Poor Renée! Monroe still had to carry someone to a couch, since he's not carrying Wu to his apartment.

I love writing for Chloe. Her lines are fun to come up with!

4 more chapters today, some *big* things in these chapters going on, so I hope you enjoy! (:


	72. Chapter 72

**Chapter 72**

We went back to Monroe's house and I was grateful not to have to look at mine for the time being. Chloe and I sat on the gold couch as Monroe took my battered cuckoo and laid it on his work bench. I couldn't stand to watch and turned my head away.

Chloe reached for my arm. "He said he'll fix it."

"It's more than just that," I sighed as I pulled myself together. Breathe in calm, breathe out tension… My breaths slowed as the calm settled in.

Monroe came back into the living room and looked down at us both. "I'm going to take a much needed shower if you ladies are okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied vaguely and Chloe nodded in his direction.

Chloe turned to me as he headed upstairs. "Is this what it's always like for you here?"

"No, this day was pretty awful. The others were milder." I tried to chuckle, but I just couldn't. "Chloe, are you okay?" I asked, taking her hands in mine.

"I'm really stressed, Renée. But Monroe, I mean, he took a knife for me. Your boyfriend is pretty amazing. And I know he can hear me up there," she said, looking up at the ceiling, "so I'm not going to be too sappy, but you have a spectacular boyfriend and I'm grateful he was there." She looked back to me, forcing a smile.

"Why, Chloe Haas, does this mean you finally approve of my boyfriend?" I genuinely grinned this time.

"One-hundred and ten percent. If you're going to live in this fucked up town, I know you're fully protected as long as he's around."

I hugged her tightly. "You just made my day."

"So, what else can you do, you know, with this Waldgeist thing?" Chloe asked hesitantly.

I shrugged. "I can rejuvenate leaves."

"What?" Chloe crossed her arms.

"Pete tried an experiment last night," I said. "He brought in a brown leaf and I held it in my hands. It turned as fresh and new as if it was right off the tree." The whole thing was as bewildering as it sounded.

"So, do you have magic powers? Is that what this is?"

"I have no clue, Chloe. Pete says that Waldgeists are magical, and I witnessed magic when I met my dad's relatives, but what I did with Monroe back there… Well, I'm not even sure what I did." I leaned back into the couch and let out a sigh.

"It looked like something out of an episode of _Smallville_ or something. Maybe you ran across some kryptonite," Chloe said, nudging my arm.

"Since when do you watch sci-fi TV?" I asked.

"Harvey has been introducing me to a few shows. Apparently I'm missing out since I'd never seen that or _Doctor Who_. We had a marathon last week at his house, and I was up to my eyeballs in 'geek-speak.'" Chloe rolled her eyes.

"Are you and Harvey…?" I asked with a grin.

Chloe shook her head. "We haven't found the va-va-voom." She frowned.

"Maybe you're his kryptonite," I laughed. It felt good to laugh.

"I've given him three weeks, so I'm throwing in the towel. He can talk sonic screwdrivers and superhero capes with someone else."

I patted her arm. "Well, you deserve someone who wants to do more than talk."

"You're mocking me, aren't you?"

"No, I'm just saying if he's moving too slow then there are… other bunnies in the field."

" Really, Renée?" She scowled at me. "You really had to go there?"

I chuckled, "Couldn't help it." I needed to laugh, even if it was at her expense just a bit. "But in my experience, the ones that are all talk now, do more than talk later."

Chloe shook her head. "I'm not that patient."

"You never have been," I replied with a smirk.

Chloe kept me distracted with more normal talk, and for a brief moment everything else melted away. Monroe returned, looking more refreshed with his blue and green plaid shirt and just a hint of a white t-shirt poking out from the top.

"I could use some coffee. You guys want a cup?" Monroe asked, moving toward the kitchen as he spoke.

"Absolutely," I replied.

"That or a beer," Chloe said.

"She wants coffee," I said quickly.

Chloe's phone rang. "It's Pete," she said while holding her hand to the receiver. I took the opportunity to help Monroe in the kitchen while she talked to her brother.

Monroe practically beamed as he worked his magic on the French press. "So, I'm spectacular, huh? That has a nice ring to it."

"What you did today, it was beyond heroic. You're just so incredible."

"Anyone would've done the same thing," he humbly replied.

"You're usually right about many things, but this time I think you're wrong," I said as I hugged him from behind.

I rubbed his shoulders as he worked. He let out a pleasing sigh as I pressed my fingers into his neck, knowing the places that felt so good to him. Leaning my head against his back, I took in his fresh application of Old Spice.

"Renée, whatever you did, it, umm, healed more than just what your ex did," said Monroe.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… Well, I fell off my bike when I was sixteen, and I've had a scar on my leg ever since… Well, until today. Like, every battle wound I've ever had is, like, totally gone now, dude."

My eyes widened. "Seriously? Even the Blutbad bite?"

"Dude, it's kinda like you took an eraser to everything."

"Oh my. I don't know what to…"

"What? You're where?" Chloe barked loudly from the living room. I left Monroe to go see what was going on. She looked at me as I lowered myself back on the couch. "Hang on, Pete. I'm putting you on speaker," she said.

"I said I'm about to go into a trauminsel. I'm doing Grimm work!" Pete said with a grin in his voice. "This is really cool!"

"A what?"

"A trauminsel?" Monroe asked with concern while walking back into the living room, juggling coffee mugs and setting them down quickly. "Here in Portland?"

"Is Nick with you?" I asked Pete.

"Yeah. Hang on a second."

"Nick, where are you guys?" I asked after Pete passed him the phone.

"We've located a place where the Skalengecks might be. Earlier today we were at their apartment and found the 'J' they stole from the spice shop. They got away after some gun fire back and forth. Along with the 'J' there was this horn thing they were using. It's called a… slaugenhump." Nick paused for a moment. "Or is it a snogginglump?"

"Saugendampf," Monroe corrected him. "Oh man, if they were using one of those then they're hardcore addicts, dude."

"Rosalee seems to think we'll find them at this island of dreams, trauminsel thing. It's like a Wesen crack house."

"And you're taking Pete with you? Is that safe, man?" Monroe asked and I caught a worried look in his eyes.

"I just need him so we can get inside. He'll be fine," Nick assured us.

"Okay, Grimm. Don't you dare let anything happen to my brother," Chloe warned in her mothering tone. She started clicking as she undoubtedly feared the worst.

Monroe stared at the phone with his hand on his chin. "Man, I should be there with you."

I glanced up at Monroe. "You were busy getting stabbed and rescuing Chloe," I reminded him, shaking my head.

"What?" Nick asked with uneasiness in his voice. "Monroe you didn't mention getting stabbed. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just be careful out there, dude. Addicts and guns are a bad combo."

Chloe hung up the phone and shook her head at me. "Since we've come to Portland, I've been held at knife-point and now my brother is going to a Wesen crack house. This is definitely not what I expected when we came here."

"It's really a nice town… sometimes," I said while trying to sound in good spirits.

"Here, have some coffee," Monroe offered, handing Chloe a blue mug. "I trust Nick. If he says your brother will be fine, he will be." She took a sip and let out the same noise I usually made. One tends to make noises after experiencing java heaven.

"My goodness, this is incredibly good!" Chloe said to Monroe, smiling at him.

"Best in Portland, or so my fans say." He grinned in my direction, leaning back into his brown, leather swivel chair. I returned the grin. "So what do you ladies think about dinner? I don't know about you, but I'm starving." Monroe reached for his stomach. "A few cherry turnovers aren't enough to tide me over for a day."

I hadn't even thought about food with everything that had happened, but my stomach growled at Monroe's mention of it.

"I'm a whiz in the kitchen. Let me handle it," Chloe offered, springing up off the couch. "Which way is it?"

I pointed to the doorway to the right as she hopped forward.

Monroe got on his feet and flashed me a worried look. He wasn't ready to have a rabbit make herself at home in his kitchen. Monroe was very particular about who was in there. Save for a few romps we'd had in the heat of the moment, everything else was scrutinized by his watchful eye.

"Umm, here's a thought... Why don't we both cook?" he suggested as I walked in behind them. Chloe shuffled through his cabinets and drawers. I put my hands on Monroe's tense shoulders.

"No, you guys go enjoy each other's company. I'm fine. Just looking for… Oh, here we go!" she said as she produced a colander.

Monroe's eyes widened as he held his face with his hand, as if not exactly sure what else to say.

"It'll be fine. She's good in a kitchen." I took Monroe by the arm, coaxing him back into the living room. "Come sit back down and try not to think about it, okay?"

He sat down on the couch beside me, still quite wide-eyed and seemingly worried about bunny collateral damage.

"She's making you dinner because she likes you," I said, grinning at him.

"Maybe it's okay if she doesn't like me _that_ much," he replied, turning back as something metal hit the floor.

"It's fine. Don't worry, I got it!" Chloe called out.

"Aw, man." Monroe shook his head.

* * *

A/N: So, Pete is taking over for Monroe in Island of Dreams. Chloe is taking over for Monroe in the kitchen, too. Poor Monroe!

Hope we're enjoying so far. 3 more to go today.


	73. Chapter 73

**Chapter 73**

After a grueling forty-five minutes of Monroe biting his fingernails, Chloe was carting dishes to the dining room table.

My phone rang just as we were sitting down to eat.

"Hey, Renée," said Nick. "Just wanted you to know that you can sleep well tonight. We found the Skalengecks and both of them are in custody."

"That's great news! Is Pete okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, he actually helped take one of them down. I think he enjoyed it, actually," Nick replied. Pete was a lover not a fighter. Maybe he was trying to impress Rosalee. "What's your address? I'll come by so we can take care of your ex."

"I already took care of Jack, so your services aren't needed," I replied, shifting my voice back to annoyance. We hadn't had time to discuss it earlier.

"How did you manage that?"

I went through my performance of tricking Jack with the fake liquid Tylenol.

"So, he just took a taxi and left?"

"Yeah, it's over."

"Are you still at your house?" Nick asked.

"No, we're over at Monroe's. My house is…" I didn't want to even finish that sentence.

"Okay, I'll be over there shortly, so I can drop Pete off."

"Thank you, Nick," I said and hung up.

I turned back to face the table. Chloe went all out and there was a little bit of everything in front of us. What the heck did she make? I wanted to forgo my vegetarian ways tonight and seek comfort in a cheese burger. My friend Daisy's brown eyes came to mind. No, vegetarian was the better choice.

"So, Pete is okay?" Chloe asked as she filled her plate.

"Yeah, he actually got a little Grimm action in tonight," I replied.

She tilted her head slightly as her eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"

"Nick didn't go into details. I guess we'll find out when they get here."

"Dammit," she muttered under her breath. "Isn't it bad enough you're getting in trouble here? Why does he have to get in on it, too?"

"Nick said he's fine," I assured her. She shook her head regardless.

Monroe attacked his plate once it was filled. "Oh, wow, dude. This is delicious!" he said, trying hard not to talk with his mouth full. "Did you use cumin?"

Chloe's concern seemed to melt away as her dinner was being fawned over. "Yeah. And there's a hint of basil in there, too," she grinned at Monroe.

He took another bite. "Yeah, I taste the basil. It's the perfect balance with the potatoes, man."

Chloe was a great cook. Monroe deserved someone who could use a kitchen. He also deserved someone that didn't have a crazy ex who had tried to kill him. Or did kill him? Oh, the self-pity train was pulling into the station. My friend the rabbit and my boyfriend the wolf talked about spices and cooking techniques as I picked at my plate, pushing a few stray peas back and forth.

"...Renée has tried it. What did you think, Hun?" Monroe continued.

"What, I'm sorry?" I wasn't paying attention.

"My recipe for a cardamom crème brulée. You like it, right?"

I nodded slowly. Did I like it? Hell, I couldn't remember even having it. They looked at my vague expression.

Chloe grabbed my hand. She didn't have to say anything. I felt better just having her here.

Once dinner was over, I scooped up the dishes.

"Renée, you don't have to do that," Monroe said, putting his arms around me. You've been through a lot today."

"Well, let's see... You almost died today and Chloe was held hostage. Of the three of us, I think I had the best day of all. I can handle a few dishes." I turned to smile at him, but it was obviously faked.

Monroe gave me a tight squeeze and then let me go. He wasn't going to change my mind. I worked out my frustrations on the dishes, scrubbing the plates with vigor. If only I could scrub away all the things I'd witnessed today just as easily.

"Nick's here," Monroe said as he made his way to the front door. That nose of his was better than a doorbell. Nick's voice was echoing in the living room a few moments later as I was finishing the last plate and drying it. I wiped my hands and went into the living room.

"…it was awesome!" Pete was telling Chloe as I walked up. "The guy was running up the stairs and I caught his leg, knocking him down. He hit his head on the stairs and was out for the count." Pete was grinning from ear to ear.

"I'm just glad you're all right," I said as he turned to me. I gave him a hug.

"Oh, I'm fine. Portland is a cool town." He let me go and smiled. Chloe rolled her eyes at the mere mention of anything good about Portland.

"Yeah, Portland is…" I began but was interrupted by Nick.

"So this Verd..." he paused like he was searching for the German word. "…this potion that your ex drank. Do you think it was effective?" he asked, his blue-green eyes fixed on mine.

"Yeah, it seemed to be. Crap, I still have to go to the police department tomorrow to fill out a report about the intruder." I made a sour face.

"What, did an officer come out tonight?"

I filled Nick in on the rest of the story, including the Waldgeist part.

"It seems I didn't need the great detective after all."

"Look, I told you I had my hands full. I was dealing with murderers and drug addicts. Real problems."

I held back a gasp. Real problems? My problem was real. Ooh, he was such an ass. I held in my frustrations, however. I still needed his help.

"I don't even know what I should say tomorrow when I go to the precinct. Can I just tell them not to worry about it? Drop the charges?" I asked Nick. Was that how it even worked?

"There's more to it than that, but I can take care of the procedural parts. I'm getting used to filling out these kinds of reports, unfortunately," Nick sighed, but then gave me that dumb toothy grin which actually made me feel better for once. "Come by and see me in the morning and I'll take care of it."

"Thank you for doing this," I said, placing my hand on his shoulder. "I owe you one."

"Let's just take one from the many I owe Monroe and we'll call it even," he replied with a smile.

Nick left and Chloe made a plate of leftovers for Pete as I sank into the couch.

"Hey, Hun. It'll be fine." Monroe sat down beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I leaned against his chest.

"Once this is over, hopefully it'll be the last we see of Jack. I swear if he comes back again, maybe I will let Chloe kill him," I said with a sigh.

"You promise?" Chloe called out from the dining room. I laughed. Too many good ears in one house.

* * *

A/N: Well, it seems Pete was a bit faster on the stairs than Monroe was in the show. He caught the guy before he got out of the building, so no brick clocking necessary. Sorry, Rosalee.

Ren↨ée gets to go back to her favorite place tomorrow... The precinct. yay...

2 chapters to go. Hope you're enjoying! (:


	74. Chapter 74

**Chapter 74**

Monroe drove us back to my place. I wanted to start cleaning. Chloe and Pete assured me they would help and we'd get everything back to how it was.

As I walked into my lavender bedroom, I shook my head at the mess. How could one person produce this much damage? I opened my 007 cabinet and checked the false bottom. The notebooks hadn't been touched. Good. The cabinet had served its purpose. I put the panel back before anyone walked in. With how Jack had searched everything, buying it had definitely paid off.

Monroe groaned behind me and I turned while his wide eyes scanned my bedroom. He shook his head at me slowly. "It looks like Fibber McGee's closet in here." He made a low whistle. "I didn't realize how bad it was when we tied Jack up. Damn."

"I can clean it," I replied while putting things back on the shelves as I spoke.

Monroe bent down and scooped up my tousled jewelry box, lingering his fingers on my ruby necklace. "You wear this one a lot," he said.

I nodded. "Yeah, my dad bought that for me. It's my favorite. 'A special stone for a special girl,' he'd said when he gave it to me."

Monroe smiled at the story as he put it away. "You know, that kinda red doesn't bother me."

"Good to know." I wasn't going to risk it and find out.

We worked for a couple of hours and the house seemed to look almost normal. Pete apologized, but said he'd had a long day and was turning in for the night. I couldn't say as I blamed him. He'd had one heck of an adventure today.

I hummed as I put my CDs back on the shelf while Chloe helped with my DVDs.

"He didn't destroy him, Renée," Chloe said.

I glanced up at her. "What?"

"You're humming 'The Sweater Song.'" She shook her head. "It doesn't take Sigmund Freud to analyze that one." My subconscious was on overdrive. Was that what I was humming? Chloe hugged me. "Your Sweater Guy wasn't destroyed. He's okay, Renée."

The words of the song haunted me.

"_If you want to destroy my sweater,  
Hold this thread as I walk away.  
Watch me unravel, I'll soon be naked.  
Lying on the floor, lying on the floor,  
I've come undone…"_

I'd definitely come undone. The events that had unraveled today jeopardized everything I loved and cared about. The thoughts of holding Monroe in my arms as he lay on the floor burned into me once again. What if I hadn't tried my magic trick? I could've lost Monroe forever. I could've lost Chloe, too. Jack might have destroyed them both tonight. He didn't deserve a Zaubertrank and a second chance. He deserved… No, I wasn't going to go there. I would take the high road.

"I'm just glad you're both okay. Chloe, he had a knife to your throat. It could've easily been you he stabbed tonight. I'm sorry you got wrapped up in this mess."

"I wasn't going to stay at home and let him hurt you, now was I?" She flashed me her model smile, which I was relieved to see. "Besides, I'm not leaving until Sunday morning, so think of it as a chance for us to be together. The universe hates it when we're separated, remember?"

I chuckled, wiping away my tears. "You don't know how much."

Chloe went upstairs after she finished what she could for tonight. I worked a bit longer, until the only thing left was the large spot of blood on my light gray and blue carpet. Monroe's blood. I fucking hated Jack Monahan! Monroe held me tightly. He knew what I was staring at.

"I have some good carpet cleaners at the house that should take that right out," Monroe said gently.

I leaned my head again his chest. "Why do people keep trying to kill you?"

In the past month Monroe had been mauled by another Blutbad, almost arrowed to death by a Waschbar, nearly pumped full of lead by my grandmother, and now this. Granted, I was getting a list of my brushes with death, too.

"As long as they don't succeed, I'll be fine," he chuckled softly as he stroked my hair.

"If anything had happened to you I don't know what I would do…" The tears returned again.

"I'm not going anywhere," was Monroe's reply.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Chloe had worked on my bookshelves, but my dad's book, _My Dark Companions and their Strange Stories_ was in the wrong place. I sat on the floor, thumbing through it. Just holding the old, leather book in my lap seemed to calm my nerves.

"Whoa, can I see that?" asked Monroe. I handed him the book. "This is like a collector's dream." He leafed through the pages with his eyes wide and that childlike grin of his just as wide on his face. Something fell out as he turned toward the back. "Oh, sorry," he muttered and I reached to retrieve it.

It was an envelope with my name printed across the front in my dad's handwriting. I held the envelope in my hand, turning it over a few times.

"What's that?" Monroe asked.

"Not sure." I held a finger to my lip as I stared at the envelope.

"Well, are ya gonna open it?"

"Not sure of that either." I let out a breath. "It's from my dad."

"Oh."

After holding the letter for what seemed like ages, I closed my eyes briefly as I ripped through the top, removing the letter inside. It was quite a few pages. Slowly, I opened it up. The letter was dated January 13th of this year, which was one week before I'd moved to Portland. The letter began.

_Pumpkin,_

_I knew if anything ever happened to me you'd take this book. You've been reading it since you were able to form words. It only makes sense due to what you could see. I'm sorry I've lied to you and if you're reading this, then plans have changed as I've feared._

I gasped loudly, my heart catching in my throat. What the hell?! I read the first few lines again. So my dad knew what I could see?

"What is it?" Monroe asked eagerly. I held my finger up to him and hurriedly read though to discover more. The first few pages told me what I already knew. I was adopted by the Davenports and that my real parents were the Archers. He went into detail about my mother and her Grimm lineage. It was all there in black and white. My Waldgeist side wasn't mentioned.

The rest of the letter was what I didn't know.

My dad's friendship with the Archers wasn't coincidental. His interaction with my biological parents was assigned to him by 'a Royal.'

Did he mean the Royal families? Who the hell were these Royals and their Seven Houses and what was my dad doing with one? I thought about Madame Dazzles again and her cryptic song lyrics. Prince… Prince? Could that be what she was trying to warn me about? The Royals? Did she know about me and all this? No, she was as surprised as anyone when I confronted her about the robbery. But there was another link somewhere. I just didn't know what it was yet. I kept reading.

The Archers didn't know about my dad's involvement with this Royal, and as far as they knew, my dad was just a friend by chance. My dad had woven himself into their lives, keeping this Royal in the loop of their relationship and especially when they were with child.

_The houses all have plans to build their sides, and Grimms, like you, play a vital role in their development. You were to know as little as possible about what you really were. The Royal wanted you a blank slate. Strides were made to prevent you from learning about Wesen, but I know Chloe taught you quite a bit. I had to explain that eliminating all your Wesen friendships would cause suspicion in you, so they let it pass._

_Another Royal learned about the plans with your parents and with you, and he paid me to turn a blind eye on the Archers. The money swayed me and instead of protecting your parents, I allowed them to be found. Renée, I didn't personally kill your parents, but I was the reason they died._

_After the transaction, I tried to prevent it by calling authorities, but I was too late. The other Royal was livid that your parents were killed, but I assured them you were still alive. We were babysitting you the night they were killed. I made sure of that._

_My new assignment was to keep you until I was told otherwise. Your parents already had such a trust in us they wanted us to take you if anything happened to them. I'd convinced the other Royal that you were an asset when he wanted to know why the assassin they'd sent couldn't locate you. With his blessing, I promised I would keep you in hiding. The rest of your family assumed you had died, since your body wasn't found. __Everything was arranged to reserve you for future plans. _I drew up the paperwork, changed your name, and my wife and I raised you as our own to keep the cover. I couldn't afford to let anyone know otherwise. Both Royals had plans to take you when it came time, but neither one knew I was working for both of them. 

The rest of the letter detailed meetings I'd had with these Royals when I was young. It talked about methods they had used to prevent me from learning the Grimm heritage, particularly when it came to Germanic languages. Supposedly would prevent me from reading my ancestors journals in case I ever found out who I was.

_Even after these meetings, you were still able to bypass many of the mental blocks they'd put in place. That only made them desire you more. _

Was this why I had trouble with German? What the fuck had they done to me?

_Doubling as a father proved more difficult than I anticipated. I became attached to you. I'd learned part of their plans from both sides. It was too tragic to put my daughter through. I tried to back out of the deals, but I wasn't able to. I was told if I tried anything there would be dire consequences. But your fate rests in my hands and I can't let them use you the way they have planned. Even writing down this much puts you at risk._

_When I was told one of the Royals was moving you to Portland I knew their plans were finally coming together._

What?! I stopped for a moment. "_They_ moved me to Portland?" I questioned aloud. Monroe, who had practically paced my carpet threadbare, stopped as I spoke.

"What is it, Renée?"

I paraphrased the letter, including the part about Portland.

"This can't be right." I shook my head adamantly. "My father… these Royal people… Moving here…" My mind was spinning. "I think my tower just crumbled," I breathed out. If that Gypsy really saw something that day, then this was definitely it. Thank goodness I was already sitting on the floor or I might have fallen down. Nothing made sense. So, my dad knew all about me, what I could see, and what I was. All these secrets and lies. My dad knew everything… Everything!

Monroe took hold of the letter, reading it over. He shook his head slowly when he finally finished.

"Dude, this is…"

"Yeah, exactly," I replied. There weren't any words to describe it. "No wonder Reapers were at my dad's funeral. They probably helped put him there."

The tears welled up behind my eyes. I put my head in my hands and tried to breathe. I needed more than the calm; I needed copious amounts of alcohol.

"Maybe you oughta read the rest," Monroe said gravely. I lifted my head as he held the letter back out to me. I took the papers, faced with the final words from my dad, the double agent.

_Jack posed a problem. I tried to tell you he wasn't the right guy for you when we went bird hunting on February 10th, hoping that would make a difference, but you said you two were in love. The Royal didn't want you to have any ties, so decisions were made to end your relationship. The Royal wanted him dead, but I found ulterior methods to ensure your break-up. You had to move to Portland, and Jack was planning on proposing. He told me when we went fishing last August when he had asked for my consent. _

Holy crap, he was going to propose? Whoa… Jack had mentioned bonding with my dad last summer during a fishing trip when we talked at the cemetery. Perhaps that was what he'd meant by that. I shook my head.

_Fortunately, once you found out about Jack cheating, you ended it. He didn't cheat. He was compelled to think he had. It was the only way to keep him alive. I'm sorry, Pumpkin, but I had orders, and Jack had to be out of the picture so you'd move to Portland without any reservations._

"He didn't cheat?" I questioned aloud. Monroe seemed to have already read that part as he gave me a look.

I rummaged through my mental filing cabinets back to when Jack started mentioning his friend, 'Sam.' Crap, it was in August! Two weeks after my birthday, to be exact. We had plans to see a movie and he couldn't go because he was staying late at the bar with 'Sam' to work on new menus. I'd never met this co-worker, which I'd found odd since I knew most everyone Jack worked with.

Just a few months later we'd had our fight about me moving, and that's when he'd admitted he'd been cheating on me the past year with 'Sam.' That fight was just a couple of weeks before I came here to finalize everything at the bank... and when I'd first met Monroe.

So were they just delusions someone had made Jack remember? I thought to the Zaubertrank we'd used tonight. What if it had been something like that; supplanting memories of a year-long affair that never existed? Perhaps there never was a 'Sam' at all. I never met her, so maybe it was all in his head.

"Maybe they brainwashed him?" Monroe suggested. "I mean, it sounds like that's what they were doing to you."

I let out a hard breath. "Whatever. It doesn't matter."

My dad had broken up my relationship, so I would move to Portland for some plan. Nice one, dad. My blood boiled hot in my veins at all the lies. It was all too much to digest. I re-read a few lines again. My dad and I had never gone bird hunting a day in my life. I was opposed to hunting birds. It made no sense. I continued to read anyway.

_The less you know the better, but please understand that I love you, Pumpkin. I love you like my own. I'm not giving up keeping you safe. I hope you can forgive me someday. Your mom knows none of this, so please don't blame her. All she knows is that your real parents died tragically, and we were blessed to have you since we couldn't have our own children. _

_You are smarter than you know and your abilities are greater than you can imagine. The Verrat will try to destroy you, and the Royals that paid me will do whatever it takes to have you on their side._

I looked up to Monroe. "The Verrat? What is that?"

"Dude, you haven't heard about the Verrat before?"

I shook my head. "Are they a type of Wesen?"

"No, umm, well, I mean they are, but they're, like, the Royal families' henchmen. They're meant to keep order in the Wesen world. But their version of order is to keep Wesen like us under the thumbs of the Royal families, and those who don't agree… Well, they don't live long enough to protest. But it's so old world. Well, I mean, I thought it was. I just didn't realize it was here and current." Monroe scratched at his head. "So if your dad had something to do the Royal families, then the Verrat can't be too far behind, and it's possible it wasn't the Reapers that killed your dad. My guess would be them. If one of those Royal dudes found out your dad was playing both sides or trying to thwart their plans, they'd have the Verrat on him in an instant."

"Could these Verrat have killed one of my parents?" That would explain two separate deaths.

"It could be, if the other Royal wanted them dead. The Reaper killing may have just been a failsafe in case your biological mom knew the Verrat was coming. Hell, even the Verrat may have done both. Man, I dunno."

I rested my elbow on my knee and held my head in my hand as I continued to read.

_Renée, the other Royal families will be after you, too, if they learn what you are. I can't protect you the way I could when you were in Louisville, but I have connections working for me in Portland. If I try to contact you about this, then it's my death sentence. This letter was the only way I could ensure you would know the truth. It's possible there's more than this, since they would only tell me so much._

_Watch who you confide your secrets to and trust your instincts. Now that the Royals are actively making plans, you can't trust anyone. Please be safe!_

_Yours always,  
DAD_

So many lies! My dad probably knew about the Waldgeist part, too. My grandmother had said I'd be wanted by more than just Hexenbiests. Perhaps this is what she meant. I couldn't hold back the tears and I let them flow.

"Why is she crying?" Chloe's feet beat down the stairs and she stood by Monroe. "What happened?"

"Yeah, she just... Well, she got some news," Monroe said.

Chloe sat beside me on the floor, taking me in her arms. "What is it? Is it your mom? Talk to me."

I passed her the letter.

"Holy fuck," she replied slowly after she'd read my dad's words. "So, your dad knew about me, too? Was he Wesen? He didn't smell Wesen, but neither do you."

"I don't know what he was. Apparently I didn't know my dad at all." I wiped away my tears. "But he knew everything, and he died because he tried to help me."

Chloe shot a look toward Monroe. "And the Verrat and the Royal families are a part of this?"

I turned my head back to Chloe. "You knew about the Verrat and these Royals? You've never mentioned any of this before."

Chloe shook her head. "Renée. There are things that even I couldn't share with you. Sure, we could talk history of Wesen, but there are just things that were too complicated, too…" She trailed off, hanging her head down.

I wasn't the only one keeping secrets. She'd been separating more than I ever realized. This hadn't been the first time. I was ignorant of Reapers until Monroe had told me about getting jumped by the ones that had sent a message to Nick. When I told Chloe about what had happened to Monroe, she said she already knew about them and what they did to Grimms. Then there was the information about forcing a woge. Again, I had to find out from Monroe, but Chloe knew all along. Now there was this. How much more was she hiding, too?

"You should have told me_ all _the history, Chloe," I said a bit more harshly than I'd meant to.

Her crystal blue eyes met mine. "I was trying to protect you. The less you knew, the better. I didn't know what you were. If you were a Grimm, then all this… All these forces were going to be looking for you. But if I'd told you, you'd have tried to find them yourself. You know how you are, Renée. Your reckless side would've put a big 'X' on your back while you looked for answers. I couldn't risk you getting hurt." Chloe was the one crying this time. We held each other on the floor as Monroe was silent.

I couldn't blame Chloe. She was doing what she thought would protect me. That was her way. She was probably right. My reckless side probably would've found its way into more trouble had I known. But I still deserved to know.

I sat up and lifted myself from the floor. "This is just too much for one day. I'm going to bed, and I'll deal with it tomorrow."

They both nodded solemnly.

Chloe headed back upstairs and I went to my bedroom with Monroe following close behind. He closed the door and removed his plaid shirt, laying it neatly on the leather ottoman at the foot of my bed.

I tapped my dad's letter lightly against my open hand. "I'll share this with Nick tomorrow," I muttered as I tucked it away in my dresser drawer. I'd hide in my 007 cabinet later.

"Probably a good idea," Monroe replied as took off his watch. "He needs to know."

We dressed for bed and I turned off the lights. At least in the dark if I cried again my tears wouldn't show.

"Is there anything I can do?" Monroe asked softly.

"Yeah," I replied, reaching for him. "Tonight I just need to hold you." I removed his t-shirt. "You're my sanity. You're my rock." I kissed him as I spoke. "I need you Monroe. You're my everything, and... The words I really want to say just aren't enough. There aren't any words that are enough." Although I tried, I couldn't keep from crying.

"God, Renée. They're enough..." He paused as he cupped my chin in his hands. As we stood by the window, the streetlights beamed through the raindrops on the glass, casting a somber glow on his face. He shook his curly head. "Whatever happens, I'm here for you. And you are _always_ here." He placed my hand to his chest as his heart beat vigorously against my palm.

Monroe's eyes illuminated my dimly-lit bedroom with a crimson tinged hue. He wrapped his arms around me while his strong hands held the small of my back, pulling me close. There were no more words as our bodies spoke for us. I kissed down his chest where my ex had run a knife through him. I kissed his neck and his face. I kissed that man all over. We continued kissing as we tumbled onto my bed, and we did much more than kiss that night. Hopefully the bunnies upstairs didn't hear too much.

Afterwards, I clung to Monroe as he stroked my hair. My head rested on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. That wonderful heartbeat, reminding me he was alive. I hummed 'More Than Words' as the glow of the streetlights danced on the far wall while the rain poured down outside.

"_Hold me close don't ever let me go.  
More than words  
Is all you have to do to make it real.  
Then you wouldn't have to say  
That you love me.  
'Cause I'd already know…"_

The words didn't matter. Love was there. What he had done tonight had gone beyond words… beyond anything. God, I didn't want to ever let him go. I loved him so much… Too much. If he had died tonight, then I would've died right along with him.

Maybe it wasn't good to love that deeply. What if it wasn't safe for one person to have that much effect on me? Those people, Royals, Verrat, whatever… They could use that power against me. They were going to kill Jack when he interfered in their plans. What if Monroe interfered, too? Then what? I'd used my abilities without a second thought when it looked like I'd lost Monroe. I would've done anything to save him. But what would I do if those Royals threatened him, or worse, tried to kill him if I didn't give them what they wanted? I reached for my Waldgeist necklace as I closed my eyes. What would I be willing to give up then?

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

"Umm," Monroe began, breaking the long silence as we lay in bed. I couldn't sleep and neither could he. "So, now that you know that Jack, umm, didn't really cheat on you..." Monroe trailed off.

"That makes no difference," I argued. "Monroe, he tried to murder you tonight. Whatever the hell I did brought you back, but that psycho could've killed us all. Who cares who he fucked?"

"Okay, okay. I just wanted to make sure."

I propped myself up on my elbow to face him. "Make sure of what?"

"I dunno," he replied. "You loved him for, you know, like, for four years and he was gonna propose. Sure he's an asshole and all, but, I mean, I wanted to make sure..."

"Jesus, Monroe. We were going downhill long before he cheated," I retorted. "Jack cheating was just the push I needed to face reality. Knowing now that it was a plot is upsetting, but honestly my dad did me a favor. I probably would've married him, and then where would I be?" I groaned as I shook my head. "The universe works in its own way. All these events led me to you. And I'm grateful every day." I kissed Monroe and rested my head against his chest.

"What do you see in me?" he asked softly.

I lifted my head up. "Are you fishing for compliments? Because I can oblige."

"No," Monroe chuckled. "But I look nothing like that six-pack dude. We're sorta, like, on opposite ends of the attraction spectrum, you know?"

"I'm very attracted to you, Monroe. You're handsome both inside and out. You're genuine and honest and those are things Jack never was. I overlooked it because I let my heart rule my head, and that was my own mistake." I laid back down on Monroe's chest. "Can we please stop talking about him? Hasn't he done enough damage for one day?"

"Yeah, he has," he sighed. "Don't I know it." He stroked my hair again. "So, umm, what do you think your heart and head are doing, you know, in our situation?"

I took in a breath. Well, that was the million dollar question. After all the thoughts earlier, I didn't know where my head was. My heart still knew; it had known for some time. But he and I were nothing like my stupidity with Jack. I couldn't tell him my heart was still ruling. I wasn't even sure if that was true, anyway. So, I answered the only way I knew how; I'd make a joke.

I grinned up at him. "Instead of one ruling the other, they're trying to share the throne. It's a tight squeeze, since it's a tiny throne."

Monroe chuckled. "Well, at least they're making it work, huh?"

I ran my fingers through his bearded cheek. "I adore you, Monroe."

He leaned up and kissed my forehead, mumbling something in German. Although my German wasn't very good, it sounded like he'd said, 'Ich liebe dich.'

* * *

A/N: WHEW! More crux, zenith, pinnacles for you guys!

Okay, so I think I've rewritten this chapter a few hundred times. I still don't know if I like it, or if I've painted myself into a corner on some things. But it is what it is...

So daddy worked for at least two royals. I've been weaving this into the story since we first met his character. He grilled Renée about Monroe, he always did the same thing with her other boyfriends, too. And he's been telling her to listen to her instincts and she's smarter than she knows. so there's why. ta-da!

Still no real 'L' word, but Monroe kinda mumbled it in German, so that's all you're getting for now there. Monroe shows a little lack of self-esteem here, but he should already know he's awesome, right?

Renée is kinda back to questioning the 'L' word again. Can you love too much that it's not safe? Kinda stems back to Aunt Marie and he telling Nick to break up with Juliette. But don't fret, Renée is too smitten to break up, but she is worried about Monroe's safety for obvious reasons.

Okay. 1 more chapter tonight. Let me know your thoughts on my twists. Does it flow well? Thanks for for your comments!


	75. Chapter 75

**Chapter 75**

Morning came, and I awoke to a sleeping Blutbad in my bed. Seven in the morning. It was really early… for me at least. Why was Monroe still here? The clock in his brain should've gone off an hour ago.

I did a mental checklist in my head. No trainings today. I could work from home, thank goodness. Crap, I still needed to go to the police station this morning. Adalind's party was this evening. Canceling at the last minute would look bad, but I wasn't much in a party mood. No, I'd just go and fake a smile. I needed to call the florist. Oh, and the letter. I needed to find time to talk to Nick about that, too. I drew out a sigh. If I stayed in bed, then perhaps I could just forget about the last twenty-four hours for a bit longer. No, I couldn't bury my head in the sand. It wouldn't go away that easily.

"You're up early," said Monroe as his eyes blinked open.

"And you're up late," I replied while I leaning against him. "There's a Pilates machine with your name on it."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll get there," he yawned, curling his arm around me.

"You can't get off your routine," I scolded, removing his arm as I shrugged off the covers and stood up.

"One day won't hurt," he assured me. It was actually two days, but I bit my tongue and didn't comment. "Come back here," he motioned. "Don't get up yet."

I crawled back into bed and he pulled me close to him. He kissed me hard, and I succumbed to his kisses. Oh, he felt so nice. I snuggled into the crook of his arm.

Monroe hummed a bit. 'Waiting For a Girl Like You.' I caught on in the first few bars.

"Humming Foreigner?" I asked with a smirk.

"You'd do well on _Name That Tune_,"he said.

"Yeah. Too bad that show was canned a long time ago."

"Too bad," he replied with a chuckle. "I really oughta catch up with what's on TV nowadays, huh?"

I bit back a grin. "Yeah, you're just a little behind the times."

We stayed in bed a while longer, but I couldn't keep ignoring everything I had to do. I finally rolled back over and stretched my spine as I sat on the edge of the bed. The Foreigner song was in my head, and so I hummed it as I got up to face the day.

"Don't go yet," Monroe whined lightly.

"You need exercise," I reprimanded him as I glanced over my shoulder.

"We could do some exercise right here," Monroe grinned, tracing a circle on the mattress with his finger.

"Pilates, Mister."

Monroe sat up in bed. "A guy has a near death experience, and he can't get a reprieve?"

I pointed to the bedroom door. "Pilates. Go."

"Fine," he huffed as he rose from the bed.

I stifled a grin. "Good boy."

Monroe crossed his arms. "Now if you start saying things like that, you won't be leaving this bed until well in the afternoon."

"As much as I would enjoy that, I have things to do today," I replied, arranging the pillows as I made the bed.

Monroe helped me with the sheets. "Are you going into the office this morning?"

"No, I'm working from home today."

A sly grin passed his lips. "Then what's your rush?"

"I have errands to run."

He smoothed down the bed spread. "What errands?"

"I have to go see the police about an intruder."

"Oh." Monroe rested his hand against the headboard. "_Those _errands."

I sighed. "Yeah." I'd much rather be here with him instead.

While Monroe straightened the edges of bed, I went to the bathroom for a shower. The water was cool and soothing. I'd stay in here forever if I could. But I couldn't. I had to finish what I'd started. And that meant going to the cops to drop charges on Jack.

"Can I get a shower, too? Monroe asked as he poked his head past my shower curtain.

"You aren't going to exercise, are you?"

"I didn't bring any spare clothes to work out in," he said. Such a poor excuse. "I'll do Pilates today at home sometime, okay?"

"Come on in." I refrained from chiding him. "Always room for one more."

Monroe entered the shower, embracing me. He was back to humming Foreigner. The words were more telling than anything I'd ever hum. But I liked the words. I loved the words. I loved… Oh, dammit.

"You keep humming that same song," I noted as I massaged his back with my soapy hands. "Any reason?"

"What do you think it means?" he turned his head and asked. Oh, sly wolf. Put the ball in my court, why don't ya?

"It means you really like Foreigner?" I grinned up at him as he pivoted so I could work on his chest.

"Maybe it means something more?"

"Then tell me."

"You're good at puzzles and games." He smirked at me. "Tell me what you think it means."

I gave him a coy grin. "You've been waiting for a girl like me?"

"Try more of the lyrics."

"Uh, it's too early for games," I said. "Why don't you just tell me?"

"Come on… keep going."

"Hmm… It's more than a touch or a word can say?"

Monroe shook his head. "Is that some of the lyrics?"

"You're quizzing me and you don't know the words?"

"Well, I know the part I'm humming." Monroe flashed me his trademark grin. "So wanna try again?"

I kissed him, so he'd just shut up. I didn't want to play games with the crazy 'L' word. After my brain overload last night, maybe it needed to wait. Whatever these people had planned for me didn't sound good. It might be best to find out what those plans were and what I was up against before those words were said. I couldn't risk losing Monroe again. God, but I did love him, words or not.

My mouth traced over his neck as I bit gently up toward his ear.

"Hey, biting is bad," he taunted.

"I know." I nibbled his lobe. "Sometimes I enjoy being a little bad." The sexy lilt in my voice teased his ear.

"Oh man…"

My kisses trailed downward again to his neck, grazing my teeth against his skin as he grunted.

"So, umm, back to the song… What do you…? Ooh…" Monroe moaned instead of playing guessing games. That ought to shut him up. "God… that mouth of yours." he rasped while I lingered on his nipple, biting just as gently. My fingers raked through his wet chest hair and I rested my palm against his chest, his heart beat increasing with every motion. My mouth dipped further, tongue gliding down to his navel, lips brushing over the edge of his hips. His hands rested on my shoulders, gripping them as I moved along. "You make… having a conversation… aah… difficult."

"My mouth is too busy to talk right now," I replied between kisses.

I sunk down to my knees while my busy mouth descended toward his inner thigh. I paused, as my fingers skimmed along his leg. The bite from the Blutbad was gone. His skin was as flawless as mine was. What other crazy abilities did I have? I nixed my thoughts and concentrated on Monroe's pleasure, dragging my tongue gradually closer toward him, teasing him. He was ready for me as I adeptly slid my mouth over his sex, wrapping my lips around him.

"Damn, Renée," he groaned out as the water ran down his chest.

I moved my mouth back and forth over his length, circling my tongue in all the right places. He thrust himself into my mouth. I grasped his hips, pressing him in deeper.

Monroe leaned against my blue, tiled walls as I continued. "God, right there," he growled. I kept moving my mouth, massaging his other parts with my hand.

Monroe reached for my head, taking a fistful of my wet locks and gripping tightly as I moved my tongue lower down to the rest of his sex. He shuddered under my tongue. His fingers tangled in my hair and slowly tilted my head up. Our eyes met as the desire in his held me firm. Keeping my gaze, I slid my mouth back on him, my tongue adding long, languid, strokes that sent him growling for more.

Monroe fisted his hand tighter as I drew out his pleasure. Moving faster, I reached for his chest, teasing his nipples. He was so close. The red in his eyes burned brightly as he growled. My tongue concentrated on the tip as I kept going.

"Fuck," he yelled out as he threw his head back.

My hands anchored on his hips as I took him in deep, keeping my pace. Monroe's body tightened as he came. The growls rumbled inside my bathroom. I never wavered, taking in every drop.

He collapsed against my shower tiles. "Oh man… the things you can do with that talented tongue," he panted.

I trailed my lips up to his heaving chest. "So, you enjoyed my hummers, Mr. Humming Man?"

He managed to laugh. "Is that all I have to do to get a hummer?"

"No, but it helps," I replied. I moved back up to his mouth, and he took hold of me.

"About those lyrics…" he said as the water poured over us. Apparently the distraction wasn't enough.

"It's a great song," I idly responded and moved away while pouring body wash in my hands to lather up. Oh, how I wanted him to say it, but then again…

Monroe's hands moved across my slippery shoulders, halting my thoughts. "Can I reciprocate?"

"Nah," I replied. "I've got to get to the precinct."

"Well, if you must."

"I must."

After our shower, he took a towel to my body, rubbing me vigorously. Oh, that felt amazing. I leaned into him, tilting my head back.

"That vanilla smells so good." Monroe kissed my neck, sending a shiver down to my toes. He traced his fingers where he had bitten me. "Is it…?"

I nodded into his chest. The wound was completely gone.

"I'm so sorry about that and…"

I turned and put a finger to his lips as I looked into his soulful, brown eyes. "It's gone, and that's in the past."

Monroe nodded and kissed my finger. His eyes traveled down my body, slipping off my towel. "Sure I can't offer a friendly hand… or tongue?"

"Maybe later," I replied, biting my lip. I wanted to agree, but there were too many things to do.

We got dressed and went to the living room. It was quiet. Chloe and Pete must have still been asleep.

"I'm going to go finalize everything at the precinct. Will you be okay here?"

"Yeah, I'll make some breakfast." He looked at me. "I'll save you some."

"Good. I'll be back soon."

It was still raining, so I quickly dodged raindrops as I headed to my car and got inside. Once I buckled up, I pulled out my phone and called the local florist to send flowers to the funeral home. Freddy Calvert was going to be buried today. Although I'd only just met Rosalee, I felt a need to be there and comfort her. But I couldn't make myself go. I'd dealt with enough death this year already. Flowers would just have to do today. The florist asked for the name on the card.

"Uh, Renée Davenport. No, instead put Renée and Monroe… Or, umm, Monroe and Renée? Umm…" How should I word it? Maybe putting both names was too weird. Ugh…

The florist sighed into the phone at my indecisiveness. "We'll take care of it, don't worry," he replied. Good. He could just figure it out for me. If only everything else was that easy.

The drive to the precinct seemed to take forever. I hummed Foreigner along the way. Crap. Whatever these Royal people wanted, I needed to know Monroe was safe before I pushed that 'L' word. Whether he said it or not, I knew Monroe loved me. I switched over my MP3 player and hummed along with Jewel instead as she strummed her guitar.

"_Please don't say I love you,  
Those words touch me much too deeply  
And they make my core tremble.  
Don't think you realize the effect you have over me…"_

"_Your hands are in my hair, but my heart is in your teeth  
And it makes me want to make you near me always…"_

Hopefully I could keep Monroe safe. I wanted him near me always and forever. No one was going to take him away.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

I walked slowly up the familiar steps to the Robbery and Homicide division of the Portland police department. Nick and his partner were sitting at their desks when I arrived. Nick looked up, but Detective Swagger seemed preoccupied with his computer screen.

"Good morning," Nick said with a toothy grin. How could he smile so big after everything that had happened? Regardless, I flashed a smile back.

"I need to finalize an intruder report," I said as professionally as I could. "Would you be able to assist?"

"Yes, we can help," Nick replied. He looked toward Detective Swagger, but he was still in a daze, focused on his screen. Nick elbowed him and he glanced up.

"Huh? What?" he asked.

"She needs to finalize a report," Nick told him.

Detective Swagger looked up at me.

"Her again?" he said and I tried to keep my face smooth. "Davenport, right?"

I nodded, as I forced myself not to rock on my heels.

"What brings you in… this time?" His tone was speculative, regarding me with a puzzled look.

"She had a break in last night," Nick answered for me.

Detective Swagger turned toward Nick. "How do you know that?"

"An officer laid the report on my desk this morning. Said she was gonna come in to finish her statement," Nick replied coolly.

"Oh. Well, okay. Come and sit down."

I sat opposite them as Nick pulled the file.

"So, did the intruder take anything?" Nick asked.

"No, he tossed my house, but nothing was taken."

"Did you see the guy?"

"No, but I passed out while he was there."

"Any description of the intruder?"

"Not really. I blacked out and my friend called 911."

"Did she see anything?"

"She said she didn't get a good look at him. The guy ran out while we were there."

"So, you don't have any description and he didn't take anything?"

"No, Sir." I added the sir, which brought a grin to Nick's face.

"Well, since he didn't take anything and there's no description. There's not much we can really do, Miss Davenport. We'll keep the report on file in case the perpetrator returns."

I nodded slowly. "Well, if I see anything else, I'll be in touch."

"Yeah, that's for the best."

Detective Swagger was back to staring at his computer screen and had ignored us during the conversation. Nick looked to his partner, giving him another sharp elbow.

"What, huh?"

"I was just telling Miss Davenport that without a description of her intruder or any loss, then there isn't much we can do."

"Uh, yeah. What he said. Sorry." He turned back to his screen. Nick shrugged.

"Is there anything else I need to do?" I asked.

"No, we'll put the rest into the report and file it away. Just be safe," Nick replied. He gave me a heartfelt look like he actually meant that last part.

"Thank you for your time then."

I walked out and headed back to my car. Well, that was quick and easy. So perhaps Jack was out of my life for good. I breathed a sigh of relief. I still needed to talk to Nick about my dad's letter. Crap. That was still a lot to deal with. While sitting in the parking lot of the police station, I reached for my cell and texted Nick.

**I have more things to talk to you about. Trailer this afternoon?**

I waited for a reply.

**Juliette and I are going to the gun range for shooting practice. Meet me at the trailer at 10:30p.m.**

Good, so I could go over the rest tonight. Wait a minute. Shooting practice? I could use some shooting practice. I texted Nick again.

**Can I join U in shooting practice?**

I received a quick reply.

**No.**

I scowled as I typed.

**Why not?**

A moment later Dire Straits played on my phone.

"You can't go," said Nick in a hushed tone.

"But I need to be able to protect myself. Don't you think that's important?"

"It is," he said, "but, how would I explain to Juliette why you were there?"

"She and I were both beaten and kidnapped, Nick. She knows you associate with Monroe now. So just tell her the truth; I want to be able to defend myself."

Nick sighed. "Fine. But you can't talk to her. I don't need you and her conversing."

"Okay, I'll refrain from talking to her. But that's gonna seem rude."

"Well, you can talk to her, but only if she says something first, and try not to say too much even then."

"I can keep it light."

"Do you have a gun?"

"No."

Nick sighed a second time. "I'll bring you a handgun you can use. Have you ever used one before?"

"No, but there's a first time for everything."

"Great," he groaned.

He gave me the address to the Multnomah Gun Club. It seemed my schedule was going to be jam-packed today.

* * *

A/N: So Monroe tries to play guess-the-lyrics to encourage the 'L' word. (Look up the song and you'll figure out the lyrics he was humming) Renée gives him a nice distraction. The half dozen love scenes I've written have all been about Monroe doing all the work. I figured it was time Monroe get a little loving in return for all his damsel-saving he's done recently. LOL!

Hank is already in a daze. One too many cookies, huh?

So that's all for now... We've got shooting with Nickette, Adalind's party, and going over daddy's letter with Nick just to name a few things coming up.

Thanks as always for reading, commenting, and Stay Tuned... (:


	76. Chapter 76

**Chapter 76**

Three bags were better than two. I added a third bag of baby carrot sticks to my cart as I moved through the produce section of Whole Foods. The police station hadn't taken nearly as long as I'd anticipated, so I gave myself a small break and went to the store to buy a few essentials for my bunny pals. Chloe was covered. I had the carrots and two bags of celery. I'd grabbed a bag of seedless grapes and ripe blackberries for Pete.

Not to leave out Monroe, I'd picked up his favorite organic Dutch dark chocolate, a lovely bottle of sauvignon blanc, and a bag of Peruvian dark roast coffee beans that he'd been wanting to try, but hadn't gotten around to purchasing. There. That ought to bring back some good girlfriend Karma.

My smile returned as I took a little extra time through the aisles. I breathed in the aroma of fresh flowers, selecting a bouquet of yellow daisies to spruce up the dining room table. I sampled a few cheeses while humming along to the random instrumental music that droned through the store. This was normal. I needed more normal.

Unfortunately, the normal was only temporary. Try as I might to prevent it, the events of yesterday trickled back through to the surface of my mind. It was so surreal. A small part of my brain was convinced it was all some crazy hallucination, or a bad dream. If only it were that simple.

Jack had hurt me in ways I'd never thought possible. It wasn't fair he got to walk away after that. And to top it off, he got the luxury of never having to remember any of it. Sadly, it would never leave my mind. And what would come of Jack's memory? Hopefully we'd erased everything and there wasn't anything we missed. I recalled the list of things we changed, checking it off. No, we'd covered everything. Maybe he'd still go back to St. Louis. Either way, as long as I was free of him, then it really didn't matter.

I glanced down at my hands as they gripped the handle of my cart. Pete hadn't said anything when we told him I'd used my abilities to save Monroe, but he'd given me a worried look. I thought back to our talk about balance. Maybe it was fine, but still I had a gnawing feeling that using my abilities could have repercussions. I wasn't going to test fate any more than I had to. Until I could better understand what I did, it was best not to use this ability anymore. Hopefully no one else would be hurt badly enough to ever have to.

And then there was Dad's letter… It only left more questions to be answered. Maybe there was something in my dad's office that would help me learn more. I could search in May. But all the lies and the deceit burned me to the core. The truths still needed to be figured out… Who were these people pulling the strings of my life like a marionette? What could they possibly want that would scare my dad so much to risk his life to prevent it? I stopped my cart and held my head in my hands, taking a few deep breaths. No matter, I had to focus. There was no sense in having a nervous breakdown. The time for that was long over. Thank goodness I had friends and loved ones who cared. I needed my inner circle now more than ever.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

I opened my front door to the wonderful aroma of orange, sugar, and coffee.

"Hey!" Monroe said, helping me with the door as I walked in. The dining room table at the far end of the room was filled with lots of food. Chloe and Pete were already eating. Breakfast was in full swing at la maison de Davenport. "So, did Nick take care of everything?"

I hung up my shoulder bag and coat on the rack. "Yeah, he said he'd file it away."

"File it away, meaning it's over?"

"I guess so," I replied with a shrug as Monroe and I went to the kitchen. I set the groceries on the counter and worked to put them away. "These are for you," I grinned as I handed him a separate bag.

Monroe rummaged through with his eyes bright. "Dude, Dutch dark chocolate? And these coffee beans are the kind I…" he looked back up, beaming. "Come over here." Monroe took me in his arms, kissing me deeply as we leaned against my fridge.

"Thanks for everything, Monroe. I don't know what I'd do without you," I said once he let go. "You keep saving me, and I'm just sorry I keep needing to be saved so often."

"Hey, you know, we saved each other, remember?"

I looked up into his soulful, brown eyes. "Yeah, I remember." Maybe there was a Zaubertrank that could make me forget, too.

"Man, this week has been…" Monroe trailed off as he shook his head. "I mean, I don't feel like we've had much time together that hasn't involved some kinda ominous, foreboding issue wrapped around it, you know? And after missing Easter with you on Sunday and…"

"Easter?" I looked up. "You celebrate that?"

"Well, yeah. Don't you?"

I hadn't celebrated Easter in a long time. I wasn't much of a church-goer to begin with. Spiritual, yeah, but not very religious. Sure, I respected the meaning, but the rest…? Well, after befriending Chloe, the whole Easter Bunny thing lost its charm. She detested that holiday something awful for obvious reasons. With what I could see, eating chocolate shaped like bunnies and eating marshmallow chicks didn't seem too respectful, either.

Mom and I had talked that day about her going to Aunt Marjorie's for dinner. We'd always have a family event during Easter, complete with a large dinner. My mom loved hosting, but it was more for the dinner than for the holiday. This year, Mom said it just wasn't the same without Dad and me being there, so Aunt Marjorie had insisted on taking over, complete with a trip to St. Anthony's for mass. Part of me was glad I'd missed it.

I bit at my upper lip. "We don't mention the 'E' word." I pointed to the other room.

Monroe squinted at me, but then the light bulb flashed on over his head. "Oh…" He glanced behind him, then back to me. "Well, uh, I suppose that isn't, umm, the best holiday for them, huh?" His sheepish grin overshadowed his words.

"Was that why you had a special dinner that night?"

"Yeah, but then you went over to the trailer."

"You should have said something. I didn't realize."

"Well, we haven't really discussed our religious beliefs, so I didn't want to, you know, assume that was something you…" Monroe glanced down, rocking on his heels."

I held his arms. "We'll talk beliefs sometime soon. I'm interested to hear yours."

Monroe looked up, smiling. "I'd like that. You know when I was a kid my nana would do up a big family thing for Ostern, she preferred the German term, anyway, we used to go out to the woods and…" Monroe paused, as his eyes went wide.

"What? Did you guys go hunting Easter eggs?"

"Umm… Let's just say it wasn't eggs we were out hunting, but anyway..." He sighed lightly. "Another talk for another day, right?" He patted me on the arm.

"Yeah, let's refrain from talking about that here," I replied quickly.

Oh my! They probably ate the Easter bunny on Easter. I didn't want to think about it. Not with Chloe and Pete at my house. No, I needed normal, thank you very much.

Monroe helped me arrange the flowers in the large vase I'd purchased while I finished up putting the groceries in the fridge.

"So what other errands do you have today?"

"I'll probably spend some time with Chloe, and then I have Miss Lawyer's party to go to. I'm meeting Nick tonight afterward to go over everything." I skipped the part about the gun range. He didn't need to know about that one.

"Oh, party. That's right. You're still going to that party thing tonight?"

"I want to at least make an appearance," I replied. I still wasn't in a party mood, but now it was definitely too late to cancel. Besides, it would be a nice distraction. "I could use a little normal after everything that's happened," I added.

Monroe nodded. "Well, come to the table for breakfast. There's some normal food with your name on it." Monroe took my hand and led me to the dining room table.

"What's this about a party?" asked Chloe as I put the vase on the table and sat down beside Monroe. Her expression told me that wasn't the only thing she'd overheard us discussing. I told her about my lawyer friend having a few people over.

"A lawyer party? Wow, you sure know how to have a good time," she grinned.

"Hey, it never hurts to know a good lawyer," I replied as I filled my plate.

"The two in Louisville have sure helped you out of a few scrapes," Chloe commented, to which Monroe raised an eyebrow.

"Well, this one isn't Wesen, so it won't be the same as Louisville."

Pete looked at Chloe. "I think I remember one of those. The Wolliglama of 2006?"

"Or the Truthahn of 2008." Chloe gave me a knowing look.

"Okay, but those were… Just knock it off," I said with a wave of my hand.

"Do I even want to ask?" questioned Monroe.

"No, you don't," Chloe replied with a smirk. "But let's just say our girl sure has luck on her side."

Monroe shook his head at me. Thank goodness Chloe didn't share the rest. I didn't need another intervention.

"So, what are we doing after this killer party?" asked Chloe.

"Umm… I'm going to see Nick about that letter."

"Oh," she said softly. Pete looked down at his plate. Apparently Chloe had filled him in.

"You want me to go with you?" asked Monroe as he took my hand.

I nodded. "Yeah, that might be for the best."

After breakfast, Pete went upstairs and Monroe had to leave to get some work done. I should've been working, too, but that was the furthest thing from my mind today. I'd catch up later. I needed a mental health day. Chloe and I did dishes as she tried to keep the conversation light and airy. Sadly, it didn't last long.

"You don't think Monroe still celebrates Ostern like he used to, do you?' Chloe asked.

I shook my head. "Unless he's chasing tofu, then no."

"My dad's grandma barely survived one Easter chase, only it wasn't Blutbaden, it was a pack of Coyotls." She shuddered. "I hate that damn holiday. I mean one Wesen gets a little creative with eggs back in the day and a whole stupid fad starts."

"Well, you don't have to worry," I said while putting plates away. "No one is going to chase you like that."

"If I'm going to get chased, he better be incredibly sexy and doing it in his Ferrari."

Shortly after, Pete returned downstairs, wearing a white dress shirt with a burgundy tie. He said was going to see Rosalee at the funeral home, and then he had some things he wanted to do while he was in town.

"What kind of things could you possibly need to do in Portland?" Chloe asked as she plopped down on the couch.

"Just… a few errands," Pete vaguely replied as he walked out the door before Chloe could pry any further.

"So, I guess it's just you and me today," Chloe grinned my way. "I have some _errands_ I need to do, too."

Chloe's version of 'errands' was shopping. She had the cure for my woes. I showed her around town, trying to prove to her that Portland wasn't all that crazy. She still wasn't convinced, but her credit card sure had a good time.

For the rest of the day Chloe kept me sane. God, I'd missed my best friend. After we'd exhausted ourselves shopping, I took her to the Fifteenth Avenue Hophouse on Northeast Brazee Street for lunch. She'd smirked at the restaurant name. It wasn't too far from where I worked, so I'd driven past my building to show her along the way.

"The place I've got booked in Florida is ocean-side. I can't wait to run my toes through the sand," Chloe sighed as she scooped up a bit of hummus onto her carrot stick. "I need warm weather, pronto. How do you handle this kind of climate? It's freezing here."

"Day by day. But the natives say it feels amazing in the summer." I took a sip of my herbal tea. "Florida sounds good right about now, though."

"I wish you could come with me. You deserve a vacation."

I deserved something. My brain was so overloaded that I wanted to cry, or drink, or drink and cry. Yeah, drink and cry. That was an excellent combo. But there was no time to stop and have another pity party. The Beatles said it best, 'O-bla-di, O-bla-da, life goes on.'

"I'll be getting one soon. I'm looking forward to going home in May," I replied wistfully. "At least I had May to look forward to. That was as close to stopping life and taking a break as I would get. "I miss my mom." Regardless of my dad's lies, I knew my mom was genuine.

"She's doing good though, Renée. Honestly she is." Chloe rubbed my arm. "This hasn't been easy for you guys, I know, but considering everything, your mom is coping well."

I nodded slowly. "Let's not talk about it right now. Tell me more about this ocean-side view." More than anything, I needed distractions.

Chloe went on about Florida plans as I tried to push aside everything else. Spring was supposed to be better. So far, it officially sucked.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Later that afternoon, I put away my new pair of dress shoes while Chloe lugged her new purchases upstairs. I had to meet Nick at the gun range in half an hour. I told Chloe I needed to run a few errands of my own, and I'd be back soon. If she knew I was off shooting guns she'd have had a panic attack.

Nick's Toyota was in the near empty parking lot as I pulled up to the Multnomah Gun Club on the Northeast side of town. I walked through the entrance and searched the lobby. Juliette's red hair caught my eye. Standing beside her was Nick, filling out some paperwork at the counter.

Juliette turned as I approached. "Hi," she said with a warm smile.

Nick looked up quickly. "Renée, hi," he awkwardly said. "Juliette, you remember Renée, right?"

She nodded and pursed her lips briefly. "Yes, I remember her."

"She's going to do some shooting with us, if you're okay with that?"

"Of course. Sure," she replied. "Have you been doing all right since what happened?" she asked me.

"Yeah," I said softly. "How about you?"

"Renée, you need to fill out these forms," Nick cut in, giving me a hard glare. Right, no chatting. He turned to Juliette as he handed her what looked like headphones.

"I brought some ears for you, too." He handed me a pair as a lady behind the counter passed me a form. "She's going to need to rent a pair of eyes," he told the clerk and she nodded. Eyes? The clerk pulled out a pair of large glasses. Ah, eye protection. Okay. Eyes and ears. Got it.

Once I'd signed my life away, the three of us headed to the lanes. The faint smell of gunpowder clung to the concrete walls. It was unusually quiet for a gun range. Shouldn't it sound like World War II in here? I scanned the room. Well, no wonder it was silent, we were the only ones around.

"Where is everyone?" I asked Nick.

"I arranged for us to have the place to ourselves. It's easier to go over what to do this way. Otherwise we wouldn't be able to hear anything with these on and the guns." He pointed to the 'ears' as he spoke.

I raised my eyebrows. "You have that kind of pull?"

"The owner is a friend of mine." Nick smirked. "We met back when I first joined the department here."

"Nick has many connections," Juliette added with a grin. Yeah, more than Juliette ever knew.

Nick took care of setting up the targets as Juliette and I stood by one of the lanes.

"Have you done this before?" she asked as we waited for Nick to finish the setup.

"Not at a gun range, no. And not with a handgun. I've fired shotguns before, but that was a long time ago."

"It's my first time with any of it," she said. "I never thought I'd need to, but after everything that's happened…" she trailed off with a sigh and tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear.

I nodded slowly. "I understand. Being kidnapped changes your perspective."

"It's more than just that," she replied. "It's also the…"

"Okay," Nick said as he came up behind us before Juliette could finish. "Renée, I'm going to put you over in this lane, and Juliette I'll have you over in this one." He pointed to two lanes side-by-side. "Renée will shoot first, since she can't stay for very long." He emphasized that last part as he stared directly at me.

Hmm… Guess that meant I was going to fire few shots, and then scram. Was he really that afraid of me talking to Juliette? I'd been keeping this secret from humans much longer than he had, for sure. I refrained from shaking my head at him.

"But first we're going to start in this lane," Nick continued, "and I want you both watching, so I can show you what to do."

We nodded as I stood next to Juliette. I glanced out at the human silhouette target. This was no soda can. When my dad had walked me through shooting, I'd picked it up rather quickly. Hopefully this would be just as easy.

"Okay, go ahead and put your eyes on," Nick instructed as he set the box of ammo on the table in front of us and retrieved his gun. "Since this is your and Renée's first time with a handgun, I'll go over the basics."

Juliette moved in closer beside me as Nick explained the parts of the handgun. Surprisingly, Nick was a good teacher. He removed the clip and slowly loaded the bullets, explaining the proper way as he went, and then snapped the clip back into place. He did it a second time, just to ensure we had it right. Nick went over the importance of keeping the gun safety 'on' until the gun was ready to be fired. He showed us both positions, guiding us the rest of the way through the process. I took it all in.

"Okay, so I want you two to take this slow when it's your turn to shoot." He aimed the gun to show us. "Keep your dominant hand gripped here and when you're not shooting, you'll want to keep your trigger finger positioned along the edge," he coached while demonstrating. Nick showed us how to wrap our palm around the gun with our other hand. "This firm grip will give you the most accurate aim."

Juliette and I watched attentively to everything including proper stance. Nick showed us one called Isosceles stance and a second called Weaver stance. Who knew stances had names?

"Put your ears on and I'll fire off a few rounds."

We donned our 'ears' and Nick fired into the target. He really knew what he was doing. Eight bullet holes ripped through the silhouette, practically pulverizing the 'X' in the center. He turned and smiled at us both as he took off his 'ears.'

We removed ours, too, as Juliette fawned over Nick's skills.

"Impressive," I said appreciatively.

Nick smirked. "I've been doing this a long time."

After Nick had reviewed the steps again, he asked me, "So, are you ready?"

"Sure," I replied. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Go ahead and put your ears back on," he instructed as he slipped on his own.

We followed Nick to my lane. Once my 'eyes' and 'ears' were secure, he handed me the gun. I mimicked Nick's stance and position, focusing on the target.

"Okay, that looks good," he yelled over the ear protection. "Now squeeze them off slowly."

Each shot flew through the paper as I rhythmically pulled the trigger to Pat Benatar's 'Hit Me With Your Best Shot.' Once I was out of bullets, I looked back at Nick, whose mouth was slightly agape. Six bullet holes were scattered close around the 'X' with the seventh one dead in the center. The eighth hole had barely crossed the line to the next ring. I was a bit disappointed about that last one. I removed my 'ears.'

"That was amazing!" said Juliette excitedly.

"I thought you said this was your first time with a handgun," Nick remarked, taking off his 'ears.'

"It is," I replied with a smile. "Beginner's luck?"

Nick shook his head, and then mumbled, "It's some kind of luck, but it's not beginner's."

"Maybe a handgun wouldn't be such a bad thing to have."

"Shooting here is still different than shooting a… _person_," Nick reminded me. "And a moving target is even more difficult."

"I realize that, Nick. I'm not expecting to just go around shooting moving _people_." I'd rather not have to shoot anyone at all. But at least if I had to, I had good aim.

"Well, I think this has been enough of a lesson for one day," Nick said hastily. "Maybe you should head out since you said you couldn't stay for very long, _remember_?" He gave me a knowing look.

"Right, I have things to do after all." I held back an eye roll. "Thanks for letting me join you today," I added instead.

"Oh, do you have to go so soon?" asked Juliette. "At least stick around to watch me shoot."

I looked to Nick for approval. He gave me a slow blink. I'd just take that as a 'yes.'

I glanced at my watch then smiled back at Juliette. "Sure. I have more time than I thought."

We moved to her lane and Nick helped Juliette with her stance. We put on our protective gear again while Juliette got into position. She quickly squeezed the trigger. Each bullet hit closer and closer to the 'X' in the center. Juliette lowered her weapon once she was out of bullets. Nick and I removed our gear as we both stared at each other in amazement. Only three shots had made it outside the center ring. The other five were as good as mine.

Nick squinted at the target. "You sure you've never done this before?" he questioned Juliette as she removed her 'ears.'

Juliette let out a short chuckle and smiled jubilantly.

"Beginner's luck seems to be all around," I said with a smile. "Fantastic job!"

She nodded in my direction with her smile still in place. "I'm starting to feel safer already."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

I had two hours before Adalind's party, so I headed home to get ready.

"Did you get everything done?" asked Chloe, who was watching TV on the couch when I walked in.

"Yeah, everything's done and I'm… on target," I replied with a slight grin, tapping the rolled up souvenir of shooting practice in my hands as I walked toward my bedroom.

"Hold it," she eyeballed me as she stood up and came toward me. "What's that suppose to mean?"

There was no hiding from her. I told her about the gun range.

"Renée, you don't need to be carrying a weapon!" she exclaimed as her rabbit features came out. "Seriously, have a little sense!"

"I'm not going to go out and buy an arsenal or anything. But I just want to know I have ways to defend myself."

She shook her head. "I knew there was something off about your so-called 'errands.' I should've gone with you."

"I was barely able to talk Nick into letting me go as it was. Having you there would've made it worse."

"I just can't believe Monroe would let you…" Chloe paused. "Oh, he doesn't know a thing about it, does he?"

"No, and you don't need to mention it," I warned as I pointed my rolled up target in her direction.

"I ought to call him right now." She shook her head. "I'm sure he'd agree with me that you don't need to have a lethal weapon."

"He's already told me he doesn't want me to have one," I replied, "which is why he doesn't need to know about the gun range."

"Renée, I swear… You and your secrets." She sighed in exasperation.

"Has Pete come back yet?" I asked.

"No. He's still out. He's probably still consoling that Fuchsbau, if I were to guess."

"Oh, that's harmless, Chloe. You guys are leaving on Sunday. He's just being nice."

She rolled her eyes as she sat back down. "Right, he's just being nice."

"Have a little empathy," I said with a sigh. "She's burying her brother today."

Chloe's face softened. "Yeah, well I'm sure that must be hard."

"I'm going to get ready for this party. Will you be okay on your own?"

"Not a lot of options for anything else." She leaned her head back into the couch.

"Chloe, I'm sorry. I'm all yours tomorrow night, okay?"

She smiled. "Okay. That, I can handle."

* * *

A/N: Easter celebrations seem to vary for everyone, huh? And it seems Renée has good aim.

Sorry on delays getting new chapters. Still writing this thing, and trying not to write myself into corners. Oh, what a tangled web of plot-lines this story has. Whew! Happy Grimm Friday to all and Stay Tuned!


	77. Chapter 77

**Chapter 77**

I arrived exactly at seven at Adalind's condo and pressed the doorbell button. Shortly afterward the door opened and Adalind was all smiles.

"So glad you could make it!" she beamed brightly in her artificial way. Was she ever genuine? "Won't you come in?" she asked as I stepped into her home.

To my right was a very elegant living room, if you could call it that. Much like Adalind, her place wasn't genuine either. It looked more like a model home instead of one that was actually lived in. I wasn't getting a homey feel at all. There was a touch of personality with a black bookcase in the far corner which displayed a few photos and mementos. The top shelf had butterflies in a frame. Wait, were those actually real butterflies? Oh, they were. Creepy.

As I stepped further inside, four women emerged from the kitchen area. One of them I already knew. Nurse Wretched. Oh, wow. Hopefully the others didn't have the same personality. I noted the time on my watch. Was I late?

Adalind noticed me checking the time. "Renée, you're fine. They just arrived early," she assured me as she motioned me forward. Introductions were made, but Nurse Wretched (whose name was Tabitha) gave a strained smile. That smile probably took quite a bit of effort on her part.

Adalind looked at me, then to Tabitha. "Do you two know each other?"

"Yeah, we met in the ER recently," I replied.

"Oh. Small world."

The other three ladies gave quick nods in my direction at their introductions, ignoring my outstretched hand. More women who didn't believe in handshakes. Nice. I slowly dropped my hand to my side, smoothing down my skirt. Maybe it was a west coast thing. In Kentucky everyone shook hands while some even hugged. There was no southern hospitality here today.

Two of the ladies were co-workers of Adalind's from her firm, and the third was an advertising executive. I was surrounded by forced smiles. I sighed to myself. Making friends in Portland was going to be hard.

"There's wine and appetizers in the kitchen," Adalind said sweetly as she pointed to the room behind me.

I nodded and made my way toward the kitchen.

Wow, another perfect, model room. The kitchen looked like it was used less than my own. There was an open cabinet with glass canisters on display, filled with things that didn't look like your typical sugar and flour. Below that a few black plates and cups were perfectly arranged. Glass cupboards set on both sides of the cabinet, showcasing more dishes like they were works of art. There were a few high-end appliances on the tiled counter space, but again, they looked mostly for decoration, not for real use. And this kitchen was beyond clean. Now, there was meticulously clean, like Monroe's, but then there was this… Sterile. For someone who loved to bake, it clearly wasn't shown in here.

On the kitchen island were an assortment of hors d'oeuvres and a few bottles of wine. She had a veggie platter amongst the other food. Thank goodness I could stick with my vegetarian ways. There was no telling what was in some of those tea sandwiches and pinwheels.

Back in the living room faint whispers of conversation caught my ears. I closed my eyes to hear it better.

"She really came," one of her co-workers commented in a hushed tone to Adalind.

"I told you she would," she replied quietly.

"How do you stop yourself?" another whispered.

Adalind said something else about plans, but I was interrupted by one of the lawyers.

"You all right?" she asked as my eyes snapped open.

"Sorry, fine," I replied, feigning a smile. I added a few veggies to my plate as the lawyer talked about a new spa she was trying out.

"Not that you would need it," she said with a bit of disdain in her voice. "You have such beautiful skin tone." She leaned in a bit. "What _is_ your secret?"

"Just good genes," I replied with a shrug.

"Yeah. Lucky you," she scowled slightly as she disappeared back into the living room.

I closed my eyes again once the lawyer was gone, but no one else was whispering. Should I be flattered or concerned about what I'd heard? I shook off my insecurities, took a glass, and filled it with a pinot noir. 2005. Good year. She had great taste in wine. But if she was anything like my mother, she excelled at hosting. Libras were top notch when it came to parties.

While I was munching on a carrot, Adalind approached and moved toward the oven. She lifted out a round, white platter filled with what looked like mini apple pies the size of cookies, complete with tiny lattice tops. There had to be a dozen at least.

"These should be cool by now," she said with a smile. "They're apple tarts. It's an old family recipe. Please, try one."

"Yes, thank you." I lifted the tart to my lips, taking in the sweet scent of cinnamon, and sampled a small bite. It was just as I'd feared… They were delicious. "So, is this what you made from your purchases at the spice shop the other day?"

She nodded with a large grin. "Sure is. Please have as many as you'd like." She nudged the platter in my direction as I finished off the first tart. Easy for her to say. She probably had a metabolism like my mom. If I ate all those, I'd have to run three times around the woods just to work them off.

"One is plenty, but they're amazing," I replied politely, waving off the platter.

"Oh, now I made these special for you." She could do puppy dog eyes as well as Monroe could.

"Okay, one more, but that's my limit," I allowed, taking another and giving her a smile. Maybe I could get in a morning Pilates workout with Monroe to work it off.

"I'm going to set these right here in case you change your mind," Adalind said as she placed the tarts next to me on the counter. Too close in my opinion.

I nibbled on the second tart as she walked off and put the other half in my napkin. Willpower. At least this way I wouldn't hurt her feelings. None of the other ladies had any of her apple tarts as they came through the kitchen. If I didn't watch it, I would eat them all to spare her feelings. Oh, twist my arm!

I moved back into the non-lived-in living room, so the temptations would be out of sight and out of mind. Besides, I wanted to mingle.

I steered clear of Nurse Wretched and instead, chatted with a co-worker of Adalind's, who was about as interesting as a sack of potatoes. I excused myself to refill my wine glass.

The ad executive was hovering around the veggie platter when I entered the kitchen. She spilled ranch dip on her blouse and gasped as she had a woge into a Hexenbiest. There was distance between us, and I remained as cool as the cucumber on my plate. She quickly retracted and looked franticly in my direction, but I ignored the look. Something wasn't right. She wanted to make sure I hadn't seen her, but I was well aware of my practiced calm. I kept my face smooth as I smiled at her. Fortunately, the Hexenbiest seemed satisfied that I didn't notice.

Was she the only one? What if they all were Hexenbiests? Witches liked covens, and Hexenbiests fell under that same category. I could just touch them and know immediately with that cold chill radar. But how? We were past introductions. I should've shook hands in the beginning. Now it would seem rude to just walk around and randomly touch people. I didn't want to seem weird. Maybe that's why they didn't offer their hands to begin with. No, that was silly. How would they possibly know what I was?

I'd already had a paranoid moment at work when I tried to shake hands with one of my trainees, and she had jerked back in fear. Finally, I'd reached over and touched her arm. She wasn't a Hexenbiest, but I found out from another trainee she was a germophobe. The poor woman had spent fifteen minutes in the ladies room, washing her arm from where I'd 'assulted' her. I shook my head. No, I was being paranoid.

If only I had Monroe's nose right now. But could he smell a Hexenbiest? They weren't exactly animal Wesen. I was close to calling him; perhaps I could fake a dead car battery or something…

"Everything okay?" Adalind asked and reached for my shoulder, startling me from my thoughts.

I turned quickly. She'd touched me and I hadn't felt anything. Oh, but there was cloth between us. Didn't my uncle say it had to be physical contact? Ugh…

"Yeah, sorry," I replied while shaking my head. "I have work on the brain."

"Well, put those work thoughts aside and enjoy yourself. Another tart?" she asked, holding up the platter. Now she was carrying it around. Adalind was determined I was going eat those decadent things.

"Sure," I replied while brushing my fingers over her hand as I took one more. Nothing. Not even a shiver. Her eyes met mine as she smiled wider. Yeah, definitely paranoid.

"I'm so glad you like them," she replied as I took a bite.

"Your friends aren't fans of apple tarts?" I asked. She hadn't been offering them to anyone else.

"Most of them eat like birds, so it's not worth the bother to ask." She rolled her eyes slightly. "Too bad they're going to go to waste."

I shook my head. "Their loss. You're an excellent baker." I took another large bite to keep her happy. I needed to pick up another napkin. I couldn't eat another whole one, guilt trip or not.

Adalind walked off and I was able to discard the rest of the tart discreetly.

I kept a watchful eye for any changes to the other ladies. Paranoia aside, I still needed to be careful. If only there was a better way to tell if they were Wesen without having to touch them. The way my grandmother could know with one look would be a handy skill to have.

One of the lawyers dropped her napkin, and we both bent down to retrieve it.

"Thanks," she replied as I took the opportunity to touch her arm.

Nothing. Warm as a normal person ought to be. Two down two to go.

I nodded slowly as briefs and trials were discussed at length by the lawyers. The ad executive discussed a client she'd recently landed for one of the newer, upscale restaurants near the Pearl District. I fiddled with the hem of my skirt while trying to focus, but I was bored, bored, bored.

I glanced over at Nurse Wretched beside me, and even she was stifling a yawn. She was wearing a watch, so I feigned interest and reached for her wrist as I admired it. Warm. Too bad she hadn't been that warm when she had her hands and her stethoscope up my back that night in the ER. The only one left was the second lawyer, but she was giving me no opportunities to cop a feel. I waited to see if she would show me her 'true colors,' but she remained perfectly human the rest of the night. Maybe it was just the ad executive after all.

It was getting late and I didn't fit in here. These ladies we're not going to become bosom buddies of mine, especially the Hexenbiest.

"I should probably go, I have an early meeting tomorrow," I said to Adalind, inching toward my coat on the rack.

"Oh, I wish you didn't have to go so soon," she said with a small pout. "At least take the apple tarts home with you."

"Won't you eat them?" If they went home with me I'd eat them all without a second thought.

"Too many carbs," she sighed. "So if you'd take them I would really appreciate it. I just hate for them to go to waste," she said again.

Yeah, but it was okay if they went to _my_ waist. She stacked the tarts in a Ziploc bag and held them out to me before I could protest.

"Thank you, Adalind." I took the bag from her hand. "They really are quite delicious."

"No, thank you, Renée. I'm so glad you could join us tonight." She pointed at the Ziploc. "Now don't go sharing those, or I might have to bake more for your friends."

I laughed. "I'll keep them from knocking down your door."

"Actually, your boyfriend might enjoy them," she grinned.

Monroe probably wouldn't unless the apples were organic and the sweetener was something chemical-free. It was rude to grill Adalind about ingredients, so I'd just hold on to them instead. Oh, darn.

I said my goodbyes to Adalind and the rest of the group as I left her house with the bag of ooey, gooey, calorie-laden apple tarts in my hand. I could just toss them, but they were really tasty. I already wanted another. No, I could hold on to them at least until I got home. Maybe.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so Renée has had a taste of Adalind's baking... Hmm... No cold chills either? Double Hmm...

Stay Tuned... (;


	78. Chapter 78

**Chapter 78**

I pulled into my driveway. Chloe and Pete's rental car wasn't out front. Chloe was waiting up for me when I walked inside. Was Pete still out? Wow, it was kinda late.

"There you are," said Chloe as she set her laptop down on the coffee table. "I've been bored silly."

"So have I, actually," I said as we both went into the kitchen.

"Was the party not as glamorous as you'd hoped?"

"It wasn't really that," I replied as I leaned against the counter. "Those ladies just aren't my style."

Chloe put her arm around me. "What did you expect from a lawyer and her friends?"

I laughed. "Miss Lawyer is nice, but her friends… Well, they're just a bit uppity."

"You're definitely not the uppity type," Chloe said with a smirk. "I mean that in a good way, though."

"It didn't help that one of them was a Hexenbiest."

"What?!" Chloe exclaimed with surprise. "You really don't need to be mixed up with one of those, Renée! It's not safe with your Waldgeist side to even be near one," she chided with a click of her teeth as she had a woge.

"Thank goodness what I am isn't obvious," I replied. "Don't mention it to Monroe though, okay?"

Chloe retracted. "Don't you think he needs to know?"

"He doesn't need to worry about it. I don't plan on seeing her ever again."

"Fine, I won't say anything," she promised as she shook her head. "But I swear, you just aren't safe here."

"Here, there… it really doesn't matter, Chloe." I let out a quick sigh. "I just have to keep living."

She pointed a finger at me. "But if a Hexenbiest dissects you, then you won't be living for very long."

I reached for her arm, redirecting her mothering finger. "I'll be okay." I looked over at the Ziploc bag I'd set on the counter. "You want some apple tarts?" I'd change the subject with food.

"Oh, God, yes," she replied, opening the bag and taking one. She paused halfway to her mouth and set it back down in the bag. "No, dammit. I can't."

"Since when do you turn down dessert?"

"Since I've had my eye on this adorable French bikini I bought for Spring Break. I'm determined to keep this figure fabulous." She showcased her abdomen with her hands for effect.

"You_ do_ know we're not teenagers anymore, right?"

"Exactly, which is why I gotta watch my figure."

I shook my head at her. "I mean about the Spring Break part."

"Hey, my high school kids aren't the only ones who get to take pleasure in sandy beaches. I'm going to enjoy next week in Florida before I head back to my drab little office when school resumes. There's a reason I love working for the school system." She beamed. "Spring Break, Summer Break, Winter Break, weekends off. It's fantastic."

"I'm sorry you had to cut your vacation short by coming here."

"Bah. I couldn't leave you to do this on your own." She rubbed my back. "That's what friends are for. Besides, you'll just have to owe me a favor later."

I laughed then replied, "Godiva chocolates?"

"That's a good start," she replied, grinning. "But after Spring Break, because I plan on making up for lost time once I get back from Florida."

"What about Pete?" I closed the bag of tarts. "Think he'd eat these?"

"Nah. He doesn't care for stuff like that." Chloe shook her head as she reached for a bottle of water from the fridge. "But if they were chocolate chip cookies, they'd be gone."

"Oh, yeah. I know he loved those when we..." I paused. I'd always buy Pete chocolate chip cookies when he needed a little pick-me-up. It was a treat he loved, and I loved to make him smile. "Didn't your mom used to make chocolate chip cookies a lot when we were kids?" I asked instead.

Chloe laughed. "Whose mom are you remembering? Mine never baked a day in her life. That's why I always liked going over to your house." She grinned at me. "Your mom made some of the best desserts. She taught me more in your kitchen than I ever learned at home."

I grinned back. "Too bad none of my mom's skills ever rubbed off on me."

"Isn't that the truth. But your mom still makes the best rhubarb pie." She rubbed her stomach. "Dammit, now I really want a fucking tart... But I have willpower," she added adamantly and took a long sip of water. "Now put them away before I change my mind," she urged with her hands.

I looked down at the bag of tarts. Guess I was going to have to finish them off by myself. Oh, darn. I set the Ziploc bag on top of the fridge. "And here I was going to take you to Voodoo Doughnut tomorrow."

"What's a Voodoo Doughnut?"

"Guess you'll just have to come back and find out some time." I smirked. She just shook her head at me. I walked toward the doorway. "I've got to go change. Monroe is coming over to pick me up, so he and I can go see Nick tonight."

"Oh. The letter, right?" she asked, giving me a pained stare.

I nodded slowly. "It shouldn't take too long. He needs to know what's going on."

"Yeah. Well, I'll be here if you need me afterwards."

"Thanks, Chloe."

Chloe went back to the couch, and I made my way to my bedroom. I threw on my favorite long-sleeved, lavender shirt and a pair of jeans. I glanced at my watch. Monroe would be here in half an hour. My dad's letter was still in my dresser drawer. I'd hide it in my 007 cabinet along with all my other secrets once I returned. I pulled it out and laid it on the bed. Did any of this affect Nick? All these Royals and houses seemed as foreign to him as they did to me. But if Grimms played some role in their plans, then Nick was as much a part of this as I was.

I grabbed the letter and went back to the kitchen. The tarts were calling my name, and I reached for the bag. Was one more worth it? No, I had enough for one day. I put them in the freezer. I couldn't just throw them away, but at least in the freezer I couldn't eat them without thawing them out first. Problem solved! I smiled at my own cleverness.

There was a knock on my front door.

"Chloe, can you get that?" I called out. I reached for a wine glass. One more glass would take the edge off before I went over that damn letter again.

"Pete's back," Chloe yelled. "He forgot his key."

"There you are," I said with a smile as I walked back into the living room, sipping on my wine. "I was worried you got lost."

"No, I've been with Rosalee," Pete replied as he plopped down in one of the chairs. "She wanted me to thank you for the flowers, by the way."

I nodded as I sat down next to Chloe, who'd already lounged back on the couch. "Is Rosalee doing okay?"

"As well as she can be," Pete replied as he leaned forward. "We worked on the spice shop after the funeral to take her mind off things."

Chloe curled her leg under her. "You two are getting a bit chummy don't you think, Pete?"

Pete looked over at her. "And why is that an issue?"

Chloe scoffed, "What would Mom and Dad say if you brought a Fuchsbau home?"

"They wouldn't say anything. Unlike you, our parents are pretty open to whomever we date," Pete responded with a grin. "You're the only one of us that's closed-minded."

"I'm not close-minded!" she shot back, sitting up straight.

"Who was the last guy you dated that wasn't a Karnickelhöhle?" asked Pete with a knowing grin.

"Well, I..." Chloe stammered as her cheeks flushed in frustration. Chloe had always dated Rabbits. She could've had any guy in school, but it was the Rabbit guys she'd always wound up dating.

"Exactly," Pete replied with a smirk. "Clover, you're such an artgleich."

Chloe gasped loudly. "You take that back!"

Artgleich in Wesen terms was like calling someone a racist. Or would that be a species-ist? Well, either way it was a horrible term, regardless.

"Then open your eyes and realize there are more than just Karnickelhöhles out there. Jessica and Dale have been married three years, and they're doing great."

Dale was a chipmunk. Of the few times I'd seen him and Chloe's older sister together, they were always hand in hand. I'd always thought they were a perfect couple.

"Ester's been married five years to Herbert," Chloe retorted.

"Yeah. But Ester dated many different Wesen before she and Herb found each other," Pete argued. "But the point I'm making here is focus on your own relationships and don't judge everyone else's." Pete turned toward me. "Back me up on this, Née. You're a hybrid dating a Blutbad."

"Oh, I'm not getting into this." I held up my hands. "Chloe and Monroe finally like each other, and that took him saving her life to get to that point." I turned to Chloe. "But I will say that Rosalee is definitely genuine, and I know she's a good person."

Pete smiled at me. Personally, I was pleased as punch he liked Rosalee. But would it continue once he went home? Long distance relationships were never easy.

With a dramatic sigh, Chloe stood and said, "I'm going to bed."

"Chloe, it's only nine-thirty."

"Yeah, but it's been a long, laborious day," she replied dramatically, shaking her head as she walked up the stairs.

Pete turned to me once the guest room door shut upstairs. "Can you believe her?" He leaned his head against his hand.

"Ah, she'll get over it," I replied with a grin.

"You said you knew Rosalee's brother, right?" Pete asked as he chewed on his lower lip. "Did you all talk often?"

"I chatted with him a few times when I shopped there, but I didn't know him well. Why?"

"Well, Rosalee found some passports on a shelf while we were working today. There were three of them, and they all had her brother's picture with different names. It wasn't my place to judge, so I didn't say anything, but it was really strange to say the least."

"I have no clue, but I agree that's really odd. Maybe he was a spy?"

"Yeah, I thought that, too." Pete laughed. "But a spy for what?"

I shrugged. "Rosalee didn't know?"

"No. She was as surprised as I was when she found them."

I shook my head. "I don't know what to tell you. Monroe said he knew him, too, so I'll mention it tonight and see what he knows. You think it's all right to say something?"

"Rosalee didn't mind sharing what she found with me, so I don't think there's any harm in it."

I nodded. "If I learn anything I'll let you know."

Pete yawned. "I think I'm gonna head upstairs and call it an early night, too."

"Okay. Did you get anything to eat?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Rosalee and I had dinner not too long ago."

I grinned at him as I finished off my wine. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself in Portland."

"This place has kinda grown on me," said Pete as he rose from the chair. "I really hate that we're leaving on Sunday."

"Well, you're always welcome to visit. You know that."

"I'm planning on it actually," he replied with a knowing look.

* * *

A/N: How long will those tarts stay in the freezer? We started with a dozen. Renée had a whole one and two halves at Adalind's party. So, might be interesting to keep track of that.  
Chloe doesn't seem too happy about her older brother hanging out with Rosalee, huh? Going a bit early on finding the passports, but that's okay.

Interesting German word, "artgleich"... It means, 'conspecific' or 'belonging to the same species.' I'm going with the Grimm-ish German and turning that to mean in relationship terms, 'being with one's own species.' So for my German speaking folks, I apologize if that is not what this really means, but I'm taking artistic license on this one. LOL!

Thanks for all the lovely comments.  
More chapters coming soon. Stay Tuned! (:


	79. Chapter 79

**Chapter 79**

"So, how was your soirée tonight?" asked Monroe as we drove to the trailer.

"It was more of a snore-ée," I chuckled as I told him about Adalind's party. "But at least Miss Lawyer knows her wine. She had a nice bottle of pinot noir."

I didn't mention the Hexenbiest. Chloe was already chomping at the bit, but Monroe definitely didn't need to know. After threatening to kill the Daemonfeuer, what if he tried to hunt her down, since they were such a threat to me? Would he do that? I didn't want to find out.

"Good wine got me through those art things of yours," he chuckled. "But getting out of the house for a while was a good thing, right?"

"I suppose." I nodded. "Chloe and I had a nice time exploring Portland earlier, so my day was still good."

"What did Pete do while you girls were out on the town?

"He was with Rosalee. She buried Freddy today."

"That was today?" Monroe smacked his steering wheel. "Oh man. I didn't send flowers."

"I sent flowers… from both of us."

He turned, seemingly surprised. "You did?"

"Yeah. I hope that's okay?"

He bobbed his head slowly. "Good, uh, yeah."

I studied his face as he pressed his lips together. Crap, did I step over a line? Maybe that was too much.

"How well did you know Freddy Calvert anyway?" I asked, changing the subject.

"We talked a handful of times. I mean, we weren't compadres or anything, but I knew him. I met Freddy when I was helping Nick with a case once. Cost me three-hundred bucks to buy…" Monroe cleared his throat. "Well, let's just say Freddy's inventory wasn't always teas and spices." He grimaced a bit. "Anyway, I stopped in a few times after that for, you know, regular stuff and we talked off and on. He was a nice guy."

Three-hundred dollars? Must have been what he'd meant in his journal. Oh, I didn't want to think about that damn journal. But then again… Gallenblase. Oh my! My German wasn't great, but that word was pretty obvious. Nick had mentioned vaguely about Geiers selling human organs on the black market. He hadn't said who was doing the selling. Well, it seemed like I had my answer. Oh, Freddy. Jacene and human organs? Maybe he wasn't as genuine as I'd originally pegged him. I cleared my thoughts. I had more questions for Monroe.

"Did Freddy ever mention going out of the country?"

Monroe seemed to think about it. "Nah, can't say as I remember a conversation like that." He turned toward me. "What's this interest in his traveling all of a sudden?"

I told him about what Pete and Rosalee had found at the spice shop.

"What was he, a spy or something?"

"That's what I thought, too. We don't know. Rosalee didn't even know about it. I just thought I'd ask you since you said you knew him too."

"Well, he never mentioned any kind of espionage or foreign powers, if that's what you mean."

"But who needs three passports? Could what he have sold required him to go out of the country under a false name?" I stopped there before I said any more. Monroe didn't need to know my epiphany.

"I dunno, man. Only he could tell you that, and now that he's, umm, dead, I don't think he'll be sharing much of anything now."

"One more mystery to add to the vault," I replied with a sigh.

"So, umm, what are your plans tomorrow?"

"Chloe wants to do more shopping after I get off work. Crap… work," I scowled. "That reminds me, I still have my presentation to finish, but I'll make it up tonight somehow."

"Speaking of making things up," replied Monroe, "you'll be happy to know I got in a full hour of Pilates."

"That's good, but your routine is all messed up."

He took my hand in his at the red light. "Eh, I'll get it straightened out. I promise."

I squeezed his hand. "You will, I know."

"I've got a meeting tomorrow, so that'll help."

"Oh. I was hoping we could all do something tomorrow."

"Tomorrow is going to be tight. I've got three clocks to finish, two to deliver, and then my meeting."

"Maybe things will get back to normal next week," I replied, leaning against his arm as he turned on Northwest Thurman Street.

Monroe chuckled. "There's that word again. I don't think that one will ever be in our vocabulary, you know?"

"One can dream," I gently replied.

I scrolled through my phone, until I found Jason Mraz's 'A Beautiful Mess.' The guitar played sweetly in the VW.

"_You've got the best of both worlds.  
You're the kind of girl who can take down a man  
And lift him back up again._

_You are strong but you're needy, humble but you're greedy.  
Based on your body language, your shoddy cursive I've been reading.  
Your style is quite selective, but your mind is rather reckless.  
Well, I guess it just suggests that this is just what happiness is._

_Hey, what a beautiful mess this is.  
It's like picking up trash in dresses…"_

"A beautiful mess, huh?" Monroe asked. "Are you quoting me now?"

"You said it best. It's our normal, but at least it's beautiful."

Monroe took my hand and kissed it. "I concur."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Monroe parked the VW close to the trailer. I took in a breath. I'd have to read my dad's words again. No amount of shopping, shooting, or soirées could undo the knowledge of that letter. But it was important to let Nick know. He needed to be safe, too.

Nick opened the trailer door after a few knocks. His blue shirt hugged him tightly under his dark blue hoodie jacket. He had a nice frame, but I guess he'd have to since he was a…

"Are you going to stand out there, or are you coming inside?" asked Nick with a shake of his head.

"Sorry." I blinked a few times. "I was… distracted."

Once inside, Monroe and I both sat on the trailer bed.

Nick scooted his wooden chair closer. "What did you want to tell me?"

His eyes seemed brighter tonight. Even the green stood out a bit more than usual.

"Renée?" Nick narrowed his eyes, halting my awkward stare.

"Sorry. Right." I pulled out the letter so Nick could read it. Monroe filled in the blanks about the Verrat.

Nick shook his head as he crossed his arms. "We're back to Royal families and now there's Verrat?" His brow furrowed. "How deep does all this go?"

"My dad mentioned the Seven Houses just like Lydia Swift."

"Your grandma said her daughter went to Austria in search of one of the houses too," Nick reminded me.

"One of the seven. And my grandmother wasn't sure that's where they were located," I replied. "The song Lydia quoted were lyrics from Prince… Maybe she was trying to alert me about the Royals, too."

"So, if your adoptive dad knew all about you, then what was he?"

"I don't know." I shrugged. "Whatever he was, he did a good job covering it up."

"Was he Wesen?"

Monroe leaned forward. "He might've been a human hired by the Royals," he chipped in. "I mean, just because he was involved in the Wesen world doesn't necessarily mean he was one."

Nick nodded slowly. "Well, we know your dad was working for two of the Royals, and it sounds like they were on opposite sides with how he described them."

"But opposite sides of what exactly?" I asked.

"Good question." Nick rested his chin on his hand as he stared down. He had a cleft in his chin. I'd never noticed that before. He glanced up at me. "Could be the opposite side of another house?"

"Man, it could be anything at this point," said Monroe.

Nick looked over the letter again. "So, then the other question we need to answer is, do these Royals live here?"

"It's possible at least one of them could be." I shook my head. "And if Lydia was afraid of someone here, then it could very well be a Royal in Portland."

"Too bad your artful dodger escaped," said Monroe. "Sounds like she knew more than she was telling."

"What about the other Waschbars?" I asked. "None of them knew about the houses?"

Nick crossed his arms. "If they did, then they weren't talking. Even Johnna Smallwood acted oblivious, and she had no problem telling me the location of the warehouse where we found that painting."

I leaned back slightly. "Even if the Royals aren't living here, they must have power here, for sure. Those Blue's Clues Lydia left made it sound like they're working for the law."

Monroe scratched his beard. "So maybe the sheriff and the captain are the two royals?"

"You're jumping to conclusions." Nick shook his head firmly. "There's no evidence to support that either of them had anything to do with this."

"Then why go to all that trouble?" I asked. "We need to look at this from all angles. Someone wants me in Portland. If that same someone works in law enforcement, then maybe it wasn't a coincidence that you came to Portland, too."

Nick seemed to think that over, but then scowled. "I came here on my own."

"Yeah, I thought I did, too," I scoffed. "Imagine my surprise."

"We're making too many assumptions without anything to back it up," Nick replied. "Ambiguous clues from criminals don't give us hard facts."

"Well, there are two Royals that want me for something, and they've gone to great lengths to get me here for some plan. My dad made that clear."

"But what he failed to make clear was who they are. Why did your dad call them 'this Royal' and 'that Royal'?" Nick held up the letter with a firm shake of his head. "Why didn't he just give us a name?"

"It doesn't seem like he could really blow the whistle without risking his family and possibly, Renée, too," Monroe reasoned. "Even with a name, what would you do anyway? I mean, you can't just arrest someone for being part of the Royal family. I mean, that's, like, arresting the Queen of England because of her bloodline or, Stephen King because he's creepy. Have you guys ever read _Pet Cemetery_? Man, that book gave me nightmares for weeks."

"Well, at least with a name I'd know who's behind this, for one thing."

"And what if knowing that information put you two at risk, I mean, even more than you are now? Man, you don't understand what these Royal guys are capable of. There's a reason they were in power back in the day… And well, I guess now, too."

Nick shook his head at Monroe. "Not knowing isn't safe either."

I looked at them both. "Either way, we know there's something going on. My dad wouldn't have risked this much if he didn't feel it was important I know at least part of it." I reached for the letter again, scanning the pages. My eyes rested on the line about bird hunting again. "There's more here. This part about February. My dad and I have never gone hunting for birds."

Monroe perked up. "You think it's a code for something?"

"I don't know. But maybe?"

My dad loved puzzles. He and I read mysteries together, solving the crime before we'd get to the end. Monroe's talk of Easter reminded me of my dad's Easter games. While other kids searched for Easter eggs, he would put clues in plastic eggs on how to find the next one. It was always a riddle or a puzzle with him. That was our bond.

Monroe took the letter from my hands. "February 10th. What else happened that day?"

I thought back to last February. Nothing pertinent came to mind. I was still doing general trainings in the Louisville office. Jack and I were fine-ish. February was a boring month.

I shook my head. "I don't know…"

"Well, February is a two. So two-ten? Maybe a time?" Of course Monroe would go to time first.

"A time for what?" Nick replied as his lips curved into a sardonic grin.

"Man, I dunno. I'm just trying to help here. Maybe something happens, or happened at two-ten. Or… If you add the numbers you get 3. The holy trinity!" Monroe brightened, holding up three fingers. "Or maybe not that." He held his arms. "They say death comes in threes…" Monroe grimaced. "Umm, forget I said that one. Or maybe…?"

"Or maybe her dad just forgot?" Nick cut in.

I shook my head. "My dad wouldn't forget that. And he wouldn't write a specific day if it didn't mean something."

But what was that something? I had no clue. My brain wasn't coming up with anything obvious. Monroe handed me back my letter, and I tucked it into its envelope.

Nick leaned back in his chair. "Well, at least we know there are forces plotting … something." He waved his hand. "Maybe we'll learn more." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's getting late, and it's been a long day. I have to go gun shopping tomorrow morning for Juliette. After practice today, she's ready for her own gun."

"Doesn't it take time to get a permit?" I asked.

"I have connections, remember," he replied with another smirk. "So are you going to get one now that you've shot off a few lucky rounds?"

Monroe jerked his head toward Nick, but then looked back at me. "Shot off rounds?"

Crap! I'd forgotten to ask Nick to keep that between us. Chloe knew not to mention the gun range to Monroe, but the one person who needed to keep quiet about it was the one who actually taught me to shoot the gun in the first place.

Nick looked at me, too. "Wait, so you didn't tell him you went shooting with us?"

Monroe turned quickly back to Nick. "Of course I didn't know," he squawked and dug his hands into his hair. "Do you think she would've gone had I known?

"You knowing wouldn't have changed that," I piped up.

He responded with a domineering glare as the red flashed in his eyes.

"Monroe, I'm not getting a gun right now," I assured him, "but I just wanted to know if I still could hit a target."

"Well, good. Now you know," he snapped back and gestured his arms out wide. "So I'm glad you got it out of your system."

"Actually she did really well," Nick said.

"Thanks," I replied and smiled at him. He had my back. I liked that.

"It doesn't matter. She doesn't need to be shooting guns," Monroe huffed as he stood, pacing the trailer floor a bit. "What if you'd gotten hurt, or hit someone or…?"

"Monroe, it was fine. I was supervising," Nick replied quickly. "She was safe."

I nodded in agreement. "It was a shooting range, and Nick taught Juliette and me what to do. I was in good hands." I smiled again at Nick. He did a great job. Maybe I was too hard on Nick. He was actually a nice guy. Why were his eyes so bright tonight?

Monroe squeezed my shoulder, startling me out of my thoughts. "I don't know why you keep things like this from me. Why couldn't you have just called and said, 'Hey, going to shoot with Nick.'? I mean, how hard is that, huh?"

"Because you would've freaked out like you're doing right now and talked me out of going," I shot back. "Monroe I'm an adult. If I want to go shooting, I think I can handle it." I pointed over at Nick. "And I had a wonderful, trained professional who's on the police force guiding me through the steps."

Nick replied with a toothy grin as he crossed his arms. It was quite charming, that grin of his.

"Trained or not, it's not something you just need to go do. I mean, what's next? Are you going to start wielding the morning star over your head? Or how about…?"

Nick stood and pushed in his wooden chair. "Okay, if you guys want to continue your argument outside, I really need to go. I have to pick up a gun and then get on the road tomorrow."

"Get on the road?" I asked.

Nick nodded and then smiled. "Juliette and I have a getaway planned this weekend. Whispering Pines."

"Like a vacation kinda thing?" asked Monroe.

"More than that," Nick grinned again, showing more of his teeth. "I'm going to ask Juliette to marry me."

A pit formed in my stomach. "Really?"

Nick nodded. "I told you I had plans for that ring."

"Are you sure it's not too soon?" I asked quickly. "She doesn't know everything yet, and maybe you should wait until…"

"I've waited too long already," Nick cut in. "She may never know about all this." He swept his hand from left to right. "But I know I love her and that's what matters. When it's in your heart, you gotta show that love, Renée." He gave me a smirk, and the heat crept up my cheeks. He'd remembered that part of our drunken night. Crap.

"Well, good for you, man." Monroe smiled back. "She seems like a great person. Well, from that one time I met her after rescuing her from the Daemonfeuer…" His smile faded as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "And have never met again since then, I might add. Not that I take that personally or anything, but you'd think…"

"Monroe, are we going to do this again?"

"No, no, I just mean it would be nice if, you know, I'd gotten a chance to know her better, but maybe I'll meet her again at the wedding." He shook his head and then mumbled, "If I'm invited to that."

"Monroe, the two of you talking isn't a good idea, what with everything."

Monroe scoffed. "But it's okay if Renée goes shooting with her?"

"I had to promise not to talk to her," I said.

"And you still did," Nick reminded me with a cold glare.

"Only when she spoke first," I replied. "I'm sorry."

Nick crossed the trailer and opened the door. "Now, like I said, I have a lot to do tomorrow so…" He pointed outside to finish his sentence.

"Yeah, yeah. We're going," Monroe replied as I followed him outside.

I turned before Nick closed the door. "Thanks for everything today. I really mean it."

Nick nodded. "I'll see ya next week or something."

The pit returned as Monroe and I got into his VW. As soon as he closed his door he jerked his head toward me. "Why are we back to secrets again?"

"What? The gun thing?"

"Yes. Of course the gun thing," he scowled.

"It wasn't a secret as much as a… delay in telling you," I replied.

"Delay? Delay like in never?"

"Not that long. I would've told you eventually." My eyes dipped slightly. In a few years, maybe.

"Yeah, right," he scoffed. "Man, I thought we just had that talk about trusting me and all that." He shook his head. "I just don't get it, man."

"I'm sorry," I said with a sigh. There was no use in repeating myself. He would've had a fit like he was now. If only I'd said something to Nick about keeping it under wraps.

Monroe reached for my hand. "What am I gonna do with you?"

I squeezed his hand and let it go. "Be there for me."

I thumbed through my phone, playing Barry White's 'What am I Gonna do With You?' while I Google'd the number two-hundred and ten.

"_Baby, oh, baby.  
Girl, what am I gonna do?  
Baby, sweet baby, my babe.  
What am I gonna do with you?"_

I idly hummed along with Barry's words as I searched. What was my dad trying to tell me?

"Sharing more songs?" Monroe asked as the music played on.

"Some things are worth sharing," I replied with a small grin. He needed to trust me. It was my turn at doing a poor job at earning his trust. Still, he didn't need to know everything, right?

Monroe chuckled. "Who knew there was another dude with the same gripes as me?"

"It's not exactly the same, but close enough," I grinned.

My eyes rested back on my screen. Google had quite a bit of results. One site said there were two-hundred and ten countries. Well, that wasn't right. There were a hundred-ninety-six, if you counted Taiwan, which the US government didn't. I was getting sidetracked. I moved on.

Wikipedia said the number two-hundred and ten was a composite number, an abundant number, and the product of the first four prime numbers, and thus a primorial. It was also the sum of eight consecutive prime numbers. I sighed. There was more… It was a triangular number, a pentagonal number, a pentatope number, a pronic number, a Harshad number, and an untouchable number. It was the area code for San Antonio, Texas, a state highway number in Minnesota, and the model of a Chevrolet back in the '50s. But what did that mean to me? How did any of that give me answers to the Verrat, the Seven Houses, or the Royals?

"What are you doing?" Monroe asked once Barry finished crooning.

"Looking up the number two-hundred and ten."

"Any ideas?"

"Nope," I breathed out.

"Try February 10th. See if anything historic happened on that day," he suggested.

"Good idea." I Google'd February 10th. Many things happened, but nothing stuck out either. I sighed again.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing that makes sense."

"Anything musical? Your dad knew you liked music, right?"

I nodded as I scanned the list. "Bob Dylan released his album 'The Times they are a Changin'' in 1964."

"Well, the times are a changin' if there are Royals in Portland."

"Sounds like it." I read further. Music didn't help. Nothing was jumping out. The answer just wasn't going to be easy. "This solution is going to be a needle in a haystack." I shook my head.

Monroe rubbed my arm. "If your dad left you a clue, he knew you'd figure it out, okay? I mean, he knew you'd take that book, so you're already aware of more than before, you know?"

"Yeah," I replied weakly as I threw my phone in my bag. I crossed my arms and leaned back in the car seat. Nick might be able to figure this out. He was smart too. The pit returned. Why did he have to leave this weekend?

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the delay in chapters. I complain about the Grimm hiatus, but then I gave you guys one. Oops?

Okay, so a little debating with Nick and the letter. Monroe is smarter than any of them know with his deduction. lol Too bad that won't come to the surface for a bit. Could there be more to the letter? Secret clues, puzzles maybe? Guess we'll see how that unfolds.

Did you guys notice anything else a bit off about Renée? (;

Stay tuned. I'll try to get a few more chapters out today.


	80. Chapter 80

**Chapter 80**

I fanned out my pink spring dress as I sat on Nick's trailer bed. "But what does it mean?" I asked while picking up my dad's letter again. "Two-hundred and ten could mean anything."

Nick stood in front of me, loosening a button on his white linen shirt. "I don't know, but I'll find out. You know how smart I can be." He sat down beside me and rested his hand on my thigh. The warmth of his palm halted my breath.

I nodded slowly. "I know you are."

Nick cupped my face in his hands and leaned in. "I'll make it a point to get the answer." His lips hovered near mine. "But first…"

_BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!_

The clock alarm jolted me out of my skin. My breath let out in exaggeration. What the fuck was I dreaming?

I got up quickly, my addled mind slowing me down as I showered and dressed for work. Pete and Chloe were at the dining room table as I stepped out.

"You're up late," Chloe commented.

"I know and I'm running late, too," I replied in a rush as I moved over to the table.

"Long night?" asked Pete.

"Yeah, something like that," I idly said, scanning for something I could eat quickly.

Chloe had one of my apple tarts on a plate beside her omelet. I snatched it up as she scowled, narrowing her eyes as I bit into it. "Hey! That was part of my breakfast."

"Spring Break. Florida. Bikini," I reminded her.

"What can I say? I'm weak, I can't help it."

"You've come this far. Just a few more days, right?"

"Fine, you win." She waved it off. "Go on and eat it then."

I held up the tart. "Apples are considered breakfast, aren't they?"

"Sure," she drawled out the word. "You aren't having anything else?"

"No time," I mumbled as I stuffed the rest of the tart into my mouth and dusted my hands off.

"Can't you call in?" asked Chloe as I straightened my skirt.

"I can't play hooky." I laughed. "This isn't high school." Honestly, calling in sick sounded like a good idea. But I had a total of sixty people counting on me today, and there was no way in Hell I was going to call in another favor to Daniel. Lord knows what he'd want from me in return this time. I tried not to think about it.

"You never played hooky in high school either, Miss Goody Two-Shoes."

"That's right." I pointed to my heels. "And these two-shoes are going to work."

"And I'll be here, utterly alone." She leaned back in her chair, placing her hand against her forehead in a dramatic stance.

"Pete will be here," I reminded her. I glanced Pete's way. He was munching on grapes and shaking his head at me.

"Like I said, utterly alone," Chloe emphasized as Pete rolled his eyes at the jab.

"I'm sorry, Chloe. But at five I'm coming straight home." She pouted at my words. "Tell you what, if my last training goes smoothly, I'll _try_ to come home early, okay?" I used finger quotes on the word 'try.'

"Now that's a great idea. And see if you can _try_ to lose those air quotes while you're at it," Chloe added, mocking me with her fingers. "This isn't the '90s."

"I'll _try_," I replied with more exaggerated finger quotes, "but don't count on it."

I waved a quick goodbye to my bunny pals as I grabbed my jacket and bags, and then swiftly headed for my Malibu.

Along the drive to work, my brain mulled over possible solutions to my dad's puzzle. When that became futile, I thought of my stupid dream. What would Sigmund Freud say about that one? I called Nick on the way. My fingers dialed the number before I even knew what I was going to say. Why was I calling him?

"Burkhardt," said Nick.

"Hey, good morning," I awkwardly replied. Why did I call him?

"What is it?" Nick asked, fully annoyed. "I'm trying to get to work."

"Oh." A bit of relief escaped me. "So, you changed your mind about your weekend getaway?"

"No, but I need to go in and go over a few reports with Hank before I leave," he replied curtly.

"Is Hank okay?" I asked. "When I came in to finish my statement about Jack yesterday he seemed… distant."

"I'm sure he's fine." Nick's voice was a bit strained.

"You didn't notice anything odd about…?"

"What do you need, Renée?" Nick interrupted. "I know you didn't call to talk about Hank."

"Uh, I just wanted…" My mind blanked out. Why the hell did I call him? "I wanted to wish you luck this weekend, if you haven't decided to wait on the proposal."

"I'm not waiting," he deliberately scowled into the phone. "I told you that last night."

"So… you're actually doing it?"

"Yeah," he replied as he softened his tone. "I've got the ring, the perfect little getaway spot, and the moves. Now it's just time for her to say, 'I do.' Piece of cake." That toothy grin in his voice came though the phone. Wow, he was really excited about this.

"I'm gonna miss you while you're gone," I said. Holy crap, that came across all wrong. "What I mean is… Uh, it'll be quiet around here."

"Yeah," he actually laughed this time. "You and Monroe might enjoy it."

"I really hope it goes the way you want it to." My words didn't sound too hopeful.

"Thanks for wishing me luck, and stay safe while I'm away. I don't want to hear of you getting into any trouble while I'm gone."

"I'll be careful." I smiled a bit. He cared if I was safe. "Have a fantastic time," I feigned a cheery tone.

After we hung up, the pit in my stomach returned. Why did I care if he was getting engaged? Stupid dreams. I shook my head vigorously, like that would knock away these silly notions. Notions? Did I just call them that? Notions, feelings… Crap.

I turned on the radio to distract my brain. R.E.O. Speedwagon blared through my speakers.

"_Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore.  
I've forgotten what I started fighting for.  
And if I have to crawl upon the floor,  
Come crashing through your door,  
Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore…"_

Okay, that was _not _helping. Damn you, radio! I changed the station.

"…_marry me Juliet  
You'll never have to be alone.  
I love you and that's all I really know.  
I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress.  
It's a love story baby just say yes..."_

Really radio? I shut off Taylor Swift in a hurry and turned on the air conditioner. It was warm in the car. I put a hand to my chest as it fluttered. Nick was getting engaged to Juliette. They were so happy. It was fine. The pit in my stomach grew. Why the hell did I even care?

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

My last training was postponed due to a conflict with start dates in HR. It was one-thirty. Technically I didn't have anything left to do at the office, and for the last hour Daniel had been popping in, discussing Denver. I could do without that. Chloe deserved a pleasant surprise.

I packed up and headed home. At the stop light I picked up my phone to check on Nick. My finger hovered over his number on my screen. I forced my hand down. I couldn't call him again. He was probably in some cabin with Juliette, doing couple-like things. I tossed my phone on the passenger seat.

Chloe came downstairs as I opened my front door.

"You're home!" she said with her model smile in place. "Thank goodness. I'm going insane in this house."

I set my bags down on the couch. "Where's Pete?"

"Guess," she scowled. "I was going to take the car out, but he insisted he had to help the Fuchsbau... again. We argued for fifteen minutes until I finally gave up. We haven't had to fight over a car since we were in high school."

I laughed in spite of her sour face. "I'm glad you didn't leave, so now you and I can go out."

Half an hour later Chloe and I were driving to the Lloyd Center shopping mall across the river. We'd discussed the number two-hundred and ten and all other possible solutions along the way.

"I even dreamed about trying to figure it out," I laughed. "Among other weird dreams."

"What dreams?" Chloe asked.

I told her about the dream with Nick. "I mean, that's stupid, right?"

"Girl, you've been hanging around that Grimm too long," she replied with irritation. "Maybe it's your subconscious telling you to back off the Grimm work, and spend more time with your wolfy boyfriend."

"Maybe. But it's just weird."

She patted my arm. "You're stressed and you're burning your candle at both ends. Get off this mental rollercoaster and take a break. You need a vacation from all the crazy."

"If only it were that easy."

Her crystal blue eyes met mine. "It is. Just stop," she said matter-of-factly as she twirled a lock of her blonde hair. "We need to remove that magnet you've got attached that's drawing all this bullshit to you. Let that boyfriend of yours do a cavity search and you'll be fine in no time," she smirked.

My face flushed. "Chloe!"

"Hey, at least you've got someone willing to do it." She shrugged. "If I had someone, then I wouldn't waste my time in funky, old trailers."

Maybe Chloe had a point. Nick being out of town was good. This was just nonsense. I couldn't really have… No, I wasn't going to even think about it again.

We spent way too much money and time shopping. Honestly, how Chloe was ever going to get everything back home was going to be a miracle. The other miracle of the day was on a rack in one of the stores. Hanging amongst the men's clearance items was a gray pullover sweater that looked identical to Monroe's destroyed one, button and all. And the best part was that it was the right size. I purchased it immediately. Once shopping was over, we loaded my trunk with shopping bags and set our sights on a late lunch.

"Ooh, I can take you to Café Mango. A friend of mine works there. You remember me telling you about Natalie, right?"

"The Wendy's Girl?"

I laughed. "That's her." With her bright red hair and freckles, Natalie looked like the girl from the Wendy's commercials. Sometimes I'd forget to use real names for people. Everyone had nicknames and most times I'd use that instead of their real names. Bad habits were hard to break.

We drove back over the bridge to Southwest Jefferson Street in Goose Hollow. Natalie's face lit up as we entered the café. Her hair matched perfectly with the brick walls behind her. The place had a warehouse feel instead of a cozy café like I'd pictured. Framed artwork of sketch drawings for sale lined the far walls. Wood tables and black chairs were spaced around the concrete flooring. The rich smell of roasted coffee beans mixed with the aroma of paninis filled the air.

It wasn't incredibly packed for a Friday afternoon. A few patrons were disbursed here and there, drinking coffee and chatting, while others were on their laptops or reading the newspaper. I waved at Natalie while Chloe and I found a seat by the window.

Natalie walked over with a large grin. "Hey! How are you?" she asked.

"We're good," I replied, mirroring her grin. "Natalie, I want you to meet my friend from Louisville. This is…"

"Oh, my gosh! You're Chloe!" She exclaimed before I could finish, then leaned down and grabbed her into a hug. "I feel like I know you already!"

"Okay." Chloe patted her back awkwardly. "Well, it's nice to meet you, too."

While Natalie was hugging, Chloe gave me a look that asked, 'Is she always like this?' I replied with a look that said, 'That's just Natalie's way.'

Natalie finally let go. "So, what do you think of Portland? Isn't it great?"

"Yeah, it's just peachy," Chloe replied a bit deprecatingly, and I kicked her lightly with my shoe.

Natalie didn't seem to notice and went on. "Renée has told me all about you! You're a school counselor, right? That's gotta be exciting, helping kids."

Chloe held back a laugh. "It's such a joy to mold young minds. Renée mentioned you worked for the local newspaper?"

"Oh, yeah. Well, hopefully I'll be doing more with that soon." She turned toward me as she grabbed a chair. "Renée, gosh, I didn't tell you yet. I have an opportunity to write an article in next week's paper," she said proudly. "It's for the Homes and Gardens section, so it's not a big piece, but it's a start. My friend has been talking to her editor on my behalf to run a piece while she's on vacation. She has a weekly column, but they want something to fill the gap. The editor gave me a timeframe and if he likes it, it's going to be in print. Can you believe it?"

"That's wonderful news, Natalie!" I replied. "What are you going to write about?"

"Well, my friend writes about decorating tips for the home, so maybe something about finding inexpensive wall art to match décor?" She turned to Chloe. "I really enjoy art," she said to her. "Did Renée mention the art galas?"

"Yeah, she told me some tales," replied Chloe with slight sigh meant for me.

"Well, anyway, I'm thinking about writing about places around town for art purchasing, along with a few hints and tips. Gosh, I've been jotting down ideas every chance I get."

"Sounds like an article worth reading," I replied, smiling.

Natalie continued to tell us about the last few articles her friend had written and how she'd love to do something like that permanently. "If he likes it, maybe I could start writing for some of the other vacationers. Gosh, it would really be…"

"Hey, Natalie," bellowed a portly guy with greasy hair matted to his forehead. "We've got customers waiting on refills over here! Quit your yapping and get moving!"

"Dangit, I gotta go. Sorry!" she said quietly as she stood and rushed over to an elderly couple, holding up their drink glasses.

Chloe widened her eyes at me. "Whew, she's a talker. If I didn't know any better, I'd think _she_ was the Nussesser."

I chuckled. "No. She's just a human who loves to gab."

The rest of lunch was spent with Natalie sneaking back to talk, and her boss giving the three of us dirty looks.

"So, are you coming to yoga tonight? You've missed a few classes," said Natalie on her third run over to us. "Ooh, you could bring Chloe. Do you like yoga, too?"

Chloe waved her hand. "Nah. I'm not into all that 'be at one with yourself, inner peace' stuff."

"Oh, you oughta try it out. It's really relaxing, but such a good workout, too."

"Yeah, Chloe. Why don't you come with us?" I teased. I'd been trying to get Chloe to go to yoga with me for years. She hadn't budged in the past dozen years, so it was doubtful Natalie would have any pull, either.

"Gonna have to pass on that one. Sorry," she replied with a bit more sincerity than I was expecting.

Natalie turned my way. "You'll still go tonight, right?"

Chloe cast me a look that said, 'If you leave me to go to yoga with her, then I won't let you live it down.'

"I'll catch up next week. Chloe is in town just for a short time, and I rarely get to see her. I hope you won't mind."

"No, no. It's fine," Natalie replied quickly. "Ooh, maybe the three of us could go to the Saturday Market tomorrow? I could get a start on my article and…"

"Natalie! Table two's lunch has been sitting here for five minutes!" Mr. McGreasy bellowed across the café.

"Sorry. Hang on!"

"Please, for the love of all things holy, don't take me to a market," Chloe whined as Natalie left.

"It's shopping. You love shopping."

"How many times have you dragged me through the Saint James Art Fair downtown and those other street shows on Frankfort Avenue?"

"Not often, because you usually refuse to go." I smirked as I took a sip from my straw. "But this one is different. New city, new…"

"Well, I don't care if it's Portland or Punxsutawney, they're all the same."

"But maybe you could see the Gypsy and see if you can tell…" I let my eyes finish that sentence.

Chloe shrugged. "Looking at her eyes isn't going to help."

"But the customary thing might."

Chloe shook her head. "It's bad enough if that lady suspects something about you already. Seeing her again and adding that you socialize with us could be worse if she's something." Chloe was separating, but I couldn't blame her. Still, this was the first time she'd actually sounded worried about it.

"So, now you think she could be legitimate?"

Chloe pressed her fingers to her temple. "No, but why risk it, right?" she whispered as she leaned forward. "After all the shit I've seen and heard in just a few days, I don't wanna mess with something if there's a possibility it could be legit. What happened to that cop wasn't an allergic reaction to peanuts, Renée. That Grimm knew him, which sounds like someone is hitting a little too close to home, if you ask me. Your safety is important, so if that nutjob saw something for real, then we don't need to be near her if she knows about you."

I bobbed my head slowly. "Well, that's one way to get out of going," I feigned a smile.

Chloe shook her head. "You know that's not why."

"Fine. No yoga, no Saturday Market, and no Voodoo Doughnut."

"Hey, I still wanna know what that is."

"It's not on your diet," I laughed.

She narrowed her eyes. "I swear I'll eat the rest of your tarts."

"Fine, one doughnut," I pointed at her, mocking her mothering tone, "but I don't want to hear anything if that bikini doesn't look to suit you."

"Yeah, yeah."

Natalie returned with a grin. "So… Saturday Market?"

"Sorry but we can't," said Chloe quickly before I could reply. "Monroe has some surprise thingie he's taking us to see tomorrow. You know how Monroe is," she lied with her model smile in place. I kicked her with my shoe again.

"Oh, I know all about Monroe's surprises," replied Natalie as she turned my way. "So do you think he'll say it soon? He didn't say it already, did he? Oh, you'd call me if he had, right?"

Natalie seemed like the only one who didn't find our hesitation with the crazy 'L' word silly. Ever since I'd told her the condensed version of the star gazing picnic and the telescope, she'd constantly wanted updates. She regarded us like one of her romantic comedy movies. When would Monroe say it? How would he go about it? Would antics ensue? Natalie was becoming more hopeful than I was.

I shook my head as I took another sip of water from my straw. "No he hasn't said it yet."

Chloe regarded us both with a tilt of her head. "Are you guys talking about the love thing?" She laughed. "Renée is waiting for a magic carpet to sweep her and Monroe up and away before that's gonna happen."

"That's not true," I retorted. "We're just taking it slow." Besides, our relationship wasn't _Aladdin_. After the events the other day with Jack, it was more like _Beauty and the Beast_.

"Well I think it's sweet," Natalie said. "When Monroe says it, he'll do it right. I just know it." Her optimism even gave me hope. But for now the crazy 'L' word would just have to wait a bit longer.

"So how did your trip to the vineyard go over the weekend?" I asked, taking the subject off me. "Are you and Leonard getting serious?" Hopefully Natalie had found a winner with Mr. Tan Jacket.

"Gosh, no. We broke up while we were in Vancouver," she replied with a scowl as she sat down again. "While we were up there, he ran into an old flame, and they spent most of the weekend 'catching up' while I drank with his cousin. She was nice, at least. Told me that Leonard wasn't very monogamous, so coming from his own family, that wasn't too reassuring. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he admitted that he and his old flame were gonna try to work things out. So I asked him about us, and he told me…" she paused as she bit at her lip. "He told me I was fun and all, but that I wasn't really someone he could see being a long-term kinda thing with."

"Oh, Natalie." I reached for her arm as she leaned her head down on the table.

"I would've told him to go suck his own dick," said Chloe with a shake of her head.

That was Chloe being polite. She'd have said something much worse if it had been her. Actually she would've done much worse to the poor guy who would've dared say something like that, and the TV news would've enjoyed broadcasting the story.

"I didn't say much of anything," replied Natalie. "I just took a cab ride home that night. Thank goodness the vineyard wasn't too far away," she lightly chuckled. "So I'm back to my dating website again. Gosh, it was just a horrible weekend."

"Sounds like it. You'll find someone better. Don't give up, okay?"

She lifted her head and nodded like she'd heard that one too many times before. "Well, too bad about the Saturday Market idea. When you visit again, maybe we can get together. Gosh, I have a feeling you and I are gonna be fast friends, Chloe." She beamed her way.

Chloe kept her smile in place. "Abso-tudi-lutely," she replied. It was all I could do to hold in my laugh. Oh, Chloe. I loved her, but oh my, how she could make me wanna slap her.

The rest of the conversation was spent on Chloe telling Natalie about where she was staying in Florida, when Natalie's boss poked his head out of the back room again.

"Natalie! Get in here!"

I pressed my lips together. Crap, she was gonna lose her job if she kept it up.

Natalie jerked her head back toward Mr. McGreasy, biting her lip. "Coming, Sir!" She turned back to us. "Sorry. I'll be right back."

"If that guy doesn't drop kick her out on her ass first," Chloe said when she was out of earshot.

"Shh!" I replied anyway. "Maybe we ought to go before she gets into any more trouble."

Chloe laughed. "She's been talking to us for the last hour, and I didn't even get a refill on my iced tea." She stood and put on her jacket. "Hopefully she's better at her job at the newspaper."

I scowled, even if she had a point. Regardless, I left Natalie a ten dollar tip as we headed out. I'd call her later on to apologize for leaving without saying goodbye. Hopefully her boss wasn't too hard on her.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

We took a quick jaunt over to Southwest 3rd Avenue to Voodoo Doughnut for dessert. The place was packed as usual and grew more crowded by the minute while we hovered in line.

"Are we getting doughnuts or going to a rock concert?" Chloe asked as she wrapped her arms around her. "I'm gonna freeze out here."

"It's a popular thing," I replied. "It won't take too long though."

While we were waiting, I people watched, taking in the mixture of tourists and natives walking the streets. A dark haired guy crossed the street that looked oddly like…

"Is that Nick?" I asked as I tugged on Chloe's arm.

"Huh? Where? I thought he was out of town." She scanned the area I pointed out, but the guy was gone. Chloe turned toward me. "You all right?"

"Maybe I'm just seeing things."

"If you start hallucinating, then you're definitely coming with me to Florida," she chuckled. "Take a fucking break, girl."

I shook my head as I looked again. I caught sight of the dark hair again, weaving its way around the other pedestrians walking along.

"There," I pointed as Chloe looked up. "He's right by that stop sign."

The guy turned… No, it wasn't Nick. This guy had to be in his forties and was sporting a nose ring and a goatee.

Chloe reached for my arm. "Renée, unless Nick is working some deep undercover thing, that isn't him."

I laughed then said, "My mistake."

Nick wasn't here. He was out in Whispering Pines, proposing. The pit returned as I held my stomach. Maybe I should call him again. I pulled out my phone, and lingered on his number. No, this was just dumb. I threw my phone back in my shoulder bag.

Twenty minutes later we were sitting at a table outside with our dessert, much to Chloe's chagrin. She was still shivering a little as she tightened her jacket around her. Luckily it wasn't raining today, and the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds. For Portland, this was a nice day.

Chloe poked at her voodoo man doughnut with the 'voodoo pin' pretzel stick it came with. "He's too disturbing to eat," she said.

"Disturbing, yet delicious." I bit into my little guy with his snarly mouth full of teeth. "Yum," I said with a smile.

"This right here fits this fucked up town perfectly," she replied as she lifted her voodoo man to her mouth, taking a tentative bite of his arm. "Okay, it does taste good." She set him back down on her plate, shaking her head as she looked at it again. "But it's still disturbing."

I laughed. "And we didn't even get to try the cock and balls doughnut."

She gaped at me, but then smirked. "I prefer my cock and balls without chocolate… Well, usually."

* * *

A/N: Sorry, this chapter was a bit OC. I didn't realize how many characters I've created with this story, but there's quite a few. Renée is having some interesting dreams. Hmm?

When I visit Portland, I can't wait to try a Voodoo Doughnut! Look up their website to see what they look like, cause they're adorably disturbing.

Café Mango was a real place. I think it's closed now. Alas.

Sorry, I'm dragging on getting chapters posted. Stay tuned and I'll see if I can get at least one more out today. (:


	81. Chapter 81

**Chapter 81**

That night Monroe had called to chat before he went to his meeting at Helvetia. I told him about our day trip.

"So,, what are you gonna do tonight?" Monroe asked.

"No real plans yet," I replied. "But I'm sure we'll figure out something."

"Well, text me if you go out, so I know you're safe. Okay?"

"Yeah, no problem. Have a good meeting."

As I hung up the phone, Chloe came downstairs, wearing a low-cut, skimpy, black dress that clung to her petite frame. Was it even considered a dress? There was more skin than material showing.

"So, how much do you charge an hour?" I asked while grinning.

"Oh, whatever. You've worn less than this," she replied with a smirk. "It's Friday night. There's gotta be something interesting in this stupid town." She adjusted her cleavage in the living room mirror. "Let's hail a cab to a bar and have a little fun." She turned back toward me. "What do you say?"

"I can't get too crazy, but sure." I nodded with a smile. "It's been too long since you and I have gone bar hopping." With Monroe and Nick both gone, I was grateful to have my BFF with me.

"Too bad you never learned to hop the way I do it." Chloe grabbed my arm and headed toward my bedroom. "We've gotta find you something sexy to wear."

I laughed as I sat on my bed. "I don't need to look sexy."

"Just because you dress sexy, doesn't mean the guys are going to get any of it," she grinned while rummaging through my closet. "Besides, I can't look like this and you go dressed in a frock."

"But I have a great frock I've been dying to wear," I teased.

"From some of these outfits I'd believe it." She shook her head as she moved hangers from one side to the other. "You used to have better taste in clothes. What has Portland done to you?"

"Some of those are from home," I replied, crossing my arms.

Chloe yanked out a navy suit. "Really? I've never seen this one. Is this what corporate life has done to you?"

"Well, I try to dress nice at work," I reasoned.

"If I'd known this was what I was working with, I'd have made you buy something while we were out today."

I took another look at her dress. "Would you have found me something that was _half off _like yours?"

She pulled out one of my pants suits and held it out. "You need some _half off_ in your life." Shaking her head, she went back to the closet. "Damn, you have enough ball gowns in here. If we were going over to Prince Harry's to party, you'd be fine," she laughed as she dug in further. "Why is all this red in the back of the…?" She openly shook her head. "Never mind. I forgot." She quickly turned around. "Keep those back there."

"That's why they're back there to begin with."

"Maybe I should take some of these home with me, since you won't be wearing them anymore."

"You never know."

She knotted her eyebrows as her head jerked back. "No red. Ever."

Especially not rope. I bit back my reply.

Chloe picked out a few dresses and laid them on the bed beside me. "Okay. Those are as close to sexy as I can find in here." Scrutinizing each one, she finally held up a peach halter dress that I hadn't wore since Jack and I first started dating.

"I think that one will do nicely. Go put it on and I'll do your hair."

"Fine," I tried to scowl, but I couldn't help but smile instead. God, I'd missed her. "There should be matching heels in the bottom of the closet somewhere."

Chloe smiled brightly. "That's the spirit."

While zipping up, my cleavage spilled over in a grand display of my assets. I tugged at the corners of my dress, shaking my head. This was even shorter than my black skirt. No wonder I'd worn this one on my early dates with Jack. I examined my backside in the mirror. Yeah, that was why, too. Even though it was a few years old, the dress still looked like new. Probably because it never stayed on long enough to ever wear out.

"That's perfect!" said Chloe as I came out of the bathroom. "Here's the shoes." She held up a pair of peach strappy heels.

After twenty minutes with a curling iron and a quite a bit of make-up, we were both ready to stand on a street corner.

"I'm gonna call us a cab," I said as I swapped out my shoulder bag for a smaller purse. "We'll go find someplace in the Pearl to get a few cocktails."

"Cocktails?" Chloe laughed. "What are we, _The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills_?"

I looked down at my outfit. "Well, we aren't dressed for beer and mechanical bull riding."

"Just 'cause we look good, doesn't mean we're not going to have a good time. No Cosmos and holding my pinky out as I sip my drink."

"No, I remember you prefer a straw."

"You know it." Chloe's eyes brightened as she turned toward me. "Ooh, let's go to that bar with the singing bartender!" she practically squealed. "I've heard enough about Slick that I wanna meet him."

I laughed. "Blue Moon Bar it is."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

The taxi driver let us off in front of the bar on Southeast Morrison Street. Ah, Blue Moon Bar. It had been a while since I'd been here. Oh, the luck this place had brought me back in November. That seemed like forever ago.

"Keep an eye out for Ziegevolk," I warned Chloe. "I saw one in here once."

She smirked as she reached for the door. "Okay, Dancing Queen. I'll keep my eyes peeled."

As we walked in, the din of the patrons made it impossible to hear each other. I caught sight of two open seats at an empty corner of the bar and signaled to Chloe. We grabbed them quickly.

"Wow, this place is packed tonight," I remarked as I shifted in my chair to lean in close to Chloe's ear.

"Yeah," Chloe yelled back. "So, is Slick working?"

I gave the back of the bar a once over. Frosted tipped hair peeked out from behind a few patrons.

"Looks like it."

Chloe jerked her head while trying to catch a glimpse. "I can't see. We need to get him over here."

A tall and lanky brunette came by. "What can I get you?" she asked.

"Tequila Sunrise," I yelled back.

"Sex on the Beach," called out Chloe. "And see if the blonde bartender can come by." She gave her a grin.

The bartender rolled her eyes slightly. "I'll see what I can do."

"Oh, and use Absolut vodka. I don't drink that bottom shelf shit," Chloe yelled as the bartender walked off.

"I thought you said no cocktails?" I gave her a knowing grin.

She turned back toward me. "Okay, one fruity drink to start off is fine. Doesn't mean I'm drinking them all night. So, this is where you met Monroe, huh?"

"Yeah. This is the place." Oh, Monroe. I sent him a text since I promised I'd let him know if we went out.

**Blue Moon Bar tonight w/ Chloe.**

I received a reply.

**Don't do tequila shots. I don't want you going home with anyone. ;-P**

I chuckled and replied.

**I'll be sure to get a copy of their ID if I do. ;-)**

Monroe texted back.

**Be safe.**

Chloe glanced around the bar as I put my phone away. "Is it always this crowded and full of sweaters?"

"I've only been here twice and it wasn't packed either time. The sweaters… Well, that's normal around here."

"Tequila Sunrise!" a male voice said and I turned to Slick, who was holding up two drinks. "And you brought a friend." He beamed his bright-white smile Chloe's way. "You must be the one who ordered the Sex… on the Beach." His pause was just awful, even for him.

"That's not such a tall order," Chloe replied reaching for her drink.

"What, you want a bigger glass?" Slick asked. His smile was the only thing that was bright.

Chloe grinned at him. "Not what I was referring to, but if you have one, sure."

"I'll take care of it," said Slick as he winked at her. "Be right back."

I reached for her arm once he ran off to grab a glass. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm just having fun," she chuckled. "Besides he didn't get it anyway."

I shook my head at her as I removed the little blue umbrella from my glass. "What about Harvey?"

"I told you, that's over," she replied quickly. "Come on, Renée. Don't give me that look. It's harmless flirting. I'm not serious or anything." She took a drink from her glass and then looked it over. "Is there even alcohol in this thing?"

"Yeah, they don't make them like Pete does," I sighed.

"Well, I'm not going to have much fun this way," she pouted slightly.

Slick returned with a much larger glass and set it in front of Chloe. "For you, Sexy. On the house," he replied with a grin.

"That's definitely bigger," she commented as she moved it beside her first one. It was nearly twice as large. "Bigger is always better."

"_I wanna have sex on the beach.__  
__Come on, move your body.__  
__Sex on the beach…"_

Slick sang as he added a red umbrella.

Chloe grinned at his crooning. "So, do you sing to all the girls?"

"Just for you tonight, Sexy." He winked at her. "So why haven't I seen your beautiful face in here before? Is Tequila Sunrise hiding you from me?" He was pulling out all the stops tonight.

Chloe grinned as she sipped her drink. "I'm from Kentucky."

"Ah, so you're an out-of-towner." He turned on his charming smile. "Are you moving here, too? We could use more beautiful ladies in Portland."

"She's just visiting," I said for her.

"Too bad," Slick replied. "I get a break here in about an hour. Maybe we could shoot a game of pool? Get to know each other better?"

"Sure," Chloe blurted out before I could decline. "I'm pretty good with a stick."

Slick's blue eyes lit up. "Oh, really? Then I'll see you lovely ladies soon." He walked off to help another customer.

"Pretty good with a stick?" I rolled my eyes at her.

"Hey, I had to say something he might actually understand," she chuckled.

I downed my drink. I was going to need more than this to survive tonight.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Halfway through my fourth Sunrise I was beginning to enjoy myself. Slick's break turned out to be his lunch break, so we had his 'company' for a whole hour.

"Three in the corner pocket," said Chloe as she angled her shot.

Slick was watching intently as she leaned against the pool table. She slid the pool stick between her fingers slowly a few times for Slick's benefit, and then with precision, the cue ball hit the three and it effortlessly fell into the pocket. Chloe was great at pool. Between the free drinks and the bets she'd make on games, we always came out ahead at the bar.

"You gonna let the rest of us play?" Slick teased as she set up her next shot.

"Oh, you'll get your turn." She flicked back her long, blonde hair and leaned down again. "Four in the side pocket." The cue ball made contact, but the four hit the edge instead. It didn't help she was watching Slick more than her shot.

"Guess it's my turn," said Slick with a grin.

Chloe took a long sip of her second JD and Coke. She needed to drink more than that, so I didn't feel like such a lush.

Slick made a point to bend down in front of Chloe. It didn't seem to matter that he wasn't even aiming for the correct ball. Chloe didn't seem to care about his pool skills as much as his other assets. Slick hit the cue ball, scratching as it flew into the far pocket.

"Damn. Guess my turn is over."

"Good try," Chloe said with a grin. Yeah, if the object of the game was to sink the cue ball, he was doing great.

I bent down to retrieve the ball. I could've put it anywhere on the table and neither one of them would've noticed. They were talking as the four ball bounced around the table and nowhere near a pocket.

I cleared my throat. "Your turn, Chloe."

She looked up. "What? Already?"

I nodded. "We're still on four."

Chloe managed to hit four, five, and six in before she scratched. She was finishing her third drink and her pool skills were wavering. It was Slick's turn again, or was it my turn? I was too drunk to care.

'Ladies Night' was playing on the jukebox. Chloe mouthed the words at me.

"_This is your night tonight,__  
__Everything's gonna be all right…"_

She gave me a goofy grin. I grinned back. Even with her excessive flirting, I'd missed going out and having some fun with her.

"Anyone wanna play doubles?" asked the third guy tonight. This one was forceful enough to put his hand on my back.

"Our game of three is going just fine," I slurred out a curt reply.

Fingers brushed the nape of my neck then trailed further down my back. "You and I can play." I moved away before his fingers reached any further down.

"She said we're fine," said Chloe with a glare as she finished off her drink, slamming the glass down on the table. "Now take the hint and move on."

"Oh, come on," continued Mr. Handsy with an alluring tone. "Just one game." He picked up my glass. "What are you drinking?"

"She's drinking a get the fuck lost," Chloe snapped back with a smirk.

"I wasn't asking you," he replied coolly. "I was asking this beautiful thing."

"I'm not a thing," I replied, finally looking up into large, obsidian eyes that matched his hair, shirt, and jeans. Hell, he was even wearing black boots. Mr. Handsy was a regular Johnny Cash. The resemblance differed as a red glow passed over his eyes. My breath caught in my throat as I kept my face smooth. Oh, great… a Blutbad.

"Are you as good with a pool stick as you are with an umbrella?" he whispered by my ear. "I'd know that scent of yours anywhere." He leered as a sinister grin formed on his lips.

I braced myself against the pool table, sobering quickly as I held my gaze on his. Holy crap. He was _that_ Blutbad… from the night out with the telescope. No, no, no…

I reached for my purse. "Well, would you look at the time? Chloe we need to go." I flashed my panicked eyes her way, but the direct link to her brain said she already knew. From her panicked expression she'd seen his eyes, too.

"Oh, don't leave yet," Slick chimed in, as he was finishing his shot. "We're just getting to know each other." He looked up at the Blutbad. "Bro, move along and leave these lovely ladies alone, will ya?"

I moved quickly to the other side of the pool table, reaching for Chloe as the Blutbad followed close.

I turned to face him again while Chloe stood behind me, gripping my arm. I held my pool stick guardedly in front of me, like that was gonna help. Surely this guy wasn't going to make a scene in front of all these people.

He glanced past me to Chloe. "Fascinating choice of friends," he said with a chuckle that matched his grin. He pushed up his sleeves, revealing a cluster of tattoos on both arms. A tribal wolf blatantly stood out on his left forearm. It was his warning sign. Too bad his sleeves hadn't been up earlier.

"We really don't need to do this here." I glanced back up him, trying to look menacing as I squared my shoulders. "And _she_ has nothing to do with it."

Surprisingly he nodded. "I'm just interested in you." He slicked back his hair with one hand.

"Well, I'm not interested, so maybe it's best if you leave before someone gets hurt."

"Why, is the boyfriend around?" He sniffed the air and smirked. "Nope, doesn't seem like it."

Slick stepped forward. "These ladies said they aren't interested. They're with me tonight. Move along, man."

I nodded. Not that Slick would be able to save us, but I was happy to agree in this situation.

It didn't deter the Blutbad. "Why don't you come with me and your friends can stay here and play pool?" What he was really saying was, 'If you just let me kill you, I'll leave your friends alone.'

"You can't go anywhere with him," Chloe's teeth clicked in my ear.

"Well, I'm not going to let him near you," I replied quickly. I focused back on the Blutbad. "Where do you want to go?"

"Outside."

I shook my head. "I'm not going alone with you."

"Pity," he replied, reaching for my stick. "Then this game of pool is over."

"No, I'll go," I replied quickly as Chloe's nails dug into my arm.

The Blutbad let go, holding a conceited smile on his lips. He had won. I gulped back my fear, meeting the gaze of his dark eyes which were as black as his soul. If only I could call Monroe or Nick. Maybe reach in my purse discreetly…

Slick turned toward me. "You don't have to go off with this putz."

"It's fine. I know him," I replied calmly. "I'll be back soon."

Chloe held me firm. "Renée don't you dare!"

I pried Chloe's hand away and handed her my purse. "I'll be fine. Just stay in here."

The Blutbad took my arm, claws pinching my skin as he pushed through the throngs of people, dragging me along toward the door. "You made the right choice."

My tequila-laden mind was singing out my reckless mantra song as we went.

"_I'm reckless,__  
__So reckless,__  
__God save me from this madness…"_

Saving didn't look promising, but it was worth asking. Maybe he'd kill me quickly and keep his word about Chloe and Slick.

Once we were out the door he guided me to the right of the building. Fortunately there were people standing outside, smoking and chatting. Not that it would matter with how this guy was, but it was somewhat comforting that he might not rip my throat out right in front of a group of humans.

With another sharp tug, he pulled me to off to a secluded area away from the entrance and amongst the shadows. The few people out front were leaving. Oh, God. The Blutbad noticed, too, as his sinister grin returned. He staggered forward, looming over me at a height that made Monroe look short. I backed up until my shoulders met with the rough brick wall. Trapped, so trapped. My heart wouldn't stop beating out of my chest. Couldn't breathe, couldn't move…

The Blutbad inhaled deeply, looking more maniacal by the minute. "Not as brave without an umbrella, are you?"

"I'm here and I'm outside, aren't I?" I forced the words out as my reckless woge took hold. "Now what do you want?"

He didn't need to know how scared I was, although he could probably smell it all over me. Fear was pushing through as I tried to sober myself. God, if only I were clear-headed.

The Blutbad inched closer, cornering me with his tree-trunked size arms placed on either side of my head. A pungent, earthy smell mixed with pine and moss reached my nose. He must have been out in the woods recently, eating something or someone. I didn't want to think about it.

"You know what I am." His voice reverberated as he spoke.

"Besides being an asshole? Of course I know," I replied boldly. "My boyfriend is also a Blutbad, but you're already aware of that."

"I'm aware," he snorted deeply. "You two really pulled a number on me that night. But it's no wonder he fought to protect you." He ran his gaze over my body, fingering the strap of my halter dress. "You're just appetizing to look at." I held back my shudder. He hooked a finger under my chin, lifting it up to meet his eyes, but I pushed his hand away. "Feisty," he smirked.

"So you want revenge?" My eyes grew wide. "Is that it?"

"If I wanted revenge, you'd already be dead," he replied as he had a woge. His wolf features were even more sinister and his demon eyes bore into me.

I swallowed hard, but I kept my composure. "Then what do you want?" I repeated. "I have a game of pool to finish."

"I want to know what _you _are," he growled out in his morphed state. "You're definitely not a Blutbad." He breathed in deeply again. "You smell human… and deliciously good."

"Right now what I am is pissed off, and I don't need an umbrella to kick your ass," my woge said brazenly, fighting off my urge to scream.

The Blutbad gave a throaty laugh. "You're threatening _me_?"

"Sorry, did I stutter?" my woge replied. "Now let me go."

"If you won't tell me what you are, I'll find out for myself." He dug his claw down my shoulder, and I winced as it made a long cut through the skin. He retracted as he held his finger to his mouth, slowly licking the blood off like he'd just finished off a piece of Kentucky Fried Chicken. "Mmm… that's different." He stopped to look at me. "Whatever you are, you sure do taste good."

"I'm human." I held back my groan as my shoulder stung sharply. "Now are you satisfied?"

"No, you aren't." He shook his head. "You don't _taste_ human." His fingers brushed against my neck. "And since your boyfriend left you all alone, and you don't belong to him, it makes you fair game." His sinister grin returned. "We're gonna have some fun tonight."

Perhaps my little healing trick wasn't such a good thing after all. Was he gonna fuck me or kill me? With my luck, probably both.

"You'll just have to have fun by yourself," my woge replied curtly. "You really aren't my type."

"Oh, I'm everybody's type." He leaned in closer, if that were possible. "Once you get a real animal between your legs, you'll change your mind." All at once he was on top of me, his mouth hot near my throat. He flicked his tongue along my neck, drawing toward my lips while his hands inched their way up the edge of my dress. "I'll warm you up good here, and we'll finish in my truck," he hissed, rubbing the bulge in his pants up against me.

"Get off me!" I spat out and reached for his hands, jerking them away. His mouth captured mine, thrusting my head against the bricks. I pushed hard against his chest enough to break away from his mouth.

The Blutbad reeled back a few steps seeming surprised as his woge came out again. "You're strong, too," he growled, baring his fangs, which looked twice as sharp as Monroe's. "What _are _you?"

"I am his, so don't you dare touch me again." Whether that was entirely true according to the bylaws of whatever Blutbad rule book was out there, was up for debate, but right now I'd say anything to keep myself safe.

"Not by our standards." The Blutbad sneered as he leaned forward, resuming the barricade with his monstrous arms, claws scraping into the bricks by my head. Crap, he wasn't retracting.

"I don't have time for this." I shoved the hulking Blutbad out of the way. "I'm going back inside."

"Not so fast." I only got a few steps before he grabbed my arms and spun me back against the wall, forcing the air right out me. "You aren't fucking leaving." His growl amplified. "Now answer me. What are you?" he menacingly repeated, finally retracting.

I glared at him, finding my breath. "What do you think I am, Blutbad?"

Squinting as his blood red eyes illuminated through the darkness, he probed deeper. "With what you did to me, I'd say you're a Grimm, if they existed." His hands gripped my arms as he held me firmly against the wall. "But one of us wouldn't date something as vile as a Grimm… unless he was stupid." He gripped me tighter as a snarl came out. "So tell me, is your boyfriend stupid?"

"Not stupid, dude," growled a familiar voice to our left.

We both turned toward a very pissed off Monroe. Oh, thank God! Monroe's eyes flashed a bright crimson as his woge came out. He grabbed the Blutbad's shoulders, yanking him off of me. I stumbled away from the wall moments before Monroe slammed the Blutbad up against it.

"Should've known you wouldn't leave this little treat all by herself." The Blutbad righted himself and growled back, undeterred as his wolf came out.

"Go inside, Renée," Monroe commanded.

I froze, clutching my chest to keep my heart from ripping through it. The other Blutbad reached for Monroe's wrists, wrenching him forward as he collided into him. Monroe seized hold of the Blutbad's shirt, knocking him to the ground, but the Blutbad held on, taking Monroe down with him. As they crashed on the ground, they rolled several times before hitting the side of the brick wall.

I edged forward, looking for something… anything to hit him with.

"Go," Monroe yelled again as he maneuvered on top of the Blutbad, striking him hard with his fist.

My woge pushed at me to stay, but I forced myself to do what he said. Too drunk to argue, I darted away and went back inside. My heart wouldn't stop pounding as I found Chloe and Slick by the entrance.

"Fuck, Renée!" Chloe ran to me. "Are you okay?"

I nodded while trying not to cry. "He's out there with Monroe and…"

"Monroe's here?" She breathed out in relief as she held me. "Good, then he'll take care of him."

"No, that's not good. That's the same guy from that one night I told you about." I let my eyes say the rest, but she was too inebriated for silent conversations.

"Do I need to call the cops or something?" Slick asked.

What a time for Nick to be out of town. "Yeah, couldn't hurt," I told Slick. Maybe I should call Nick anyway. Not that he would get here in time, but maybe... I shook the thoughts out.

Slick walked off, and I stood by the door, closing my eyes as the sounds of growling continued outside.

"They won't do too much." Chloe was still holding on to me as I tried to breathe. "Humans are out there. It'll be okay." She glanced down at my shoulder. "Did he do this to you?"

I nodded slowly. "It'll heal."

"Son of a bitch." She clicked her teeth as she placed her napkin from around her glass on my wound, which probably wasn't sanitary, but she was drunk and trying to be motherly at the same time. "If Monroe doesn't kill him, I will."

"You're not taking on a Blutbad, so just stop it." I looked over at her while removing the napkin. "Besides, you're too drunk to do anything. Hell, I'm too drunk to be doing anything."

"Why did you even go out there then? What is wrong with you, Renée? Really?"

"He was going to hurt all of us," I explained. "I couldn't risk it."

"So, you just run off with the Big Bad Wolf?" she slurred.

"Yes," I replied matter-of-factly.

"Haven't you learned anything?" She pointed a wobbly finger my way. "If you don't start using your head, I don't know what I'm gonna do." She looked at her glass. "I need another drink."

"Oh, God. If that monster hurts Monroe…"

"Cops are on their way," said Slick before I could finish. "Did you say you knew that guy?"

"I met him once. My boyfriend got into a fight with him, and I intervened, so he's not too fond of me." But after that demonstration, it seemed he was awfully fond of me. Dressing sexy tonight was not a smart idea.

"They said there's a cop in the area, so it shouldn't be long."

I kept my eyes closed, listening to the growls. As long as there were two, then Monroe was still alive, at least. Humans watching or not, whatever they were doing it didn't sound good. My head spun a bit as I continued to stand. I wasn't as drunk as I had been, what with all the adrenaline pumping through me, but I was still off center. Everything was hazy, like my head was in a fog. I wanted to be out there with Monroe. I wanted to take a pool stick and jab it into that Blutbad's lower back until he howled. I wanted to be Michelle Pfeiffer with a gun…

The sound of a patrol car distracted me, and I opened my eyes, moving forward.

"Stay in here," Chloe gasped out, but I was already halfway through the entrance door.

Two cops got out of their vehicle, headed toward the Blutbad and Monroe, who were still duking it out on the ground. Monroe was wrestling to get on top, but it was a struggle. I held my hand to my mouth. If only I could do something. Oh, Monroe.

"Break it up, you two," one cop yelled as both Blutbaden seemed to halt, quickly getting up on their feet.

Monroe's tan dress shirt was ripped in places, and his sleeve was shredded, which meant the claws had come out. It was nothing like what had happened before, thank goodness, but he'd still been through a hard fight. The Blutbad tried to run as the cops got closer, but Monroe pulled him back before he could get away.

"Any reason you're trying to run off?" the other cop asked as he took hold of him.

"Man, just let me go," he replied, trying to catch his breath. "We've stopped fighting."

"No, I think you need to step over to the car for a moment." The cop was a big guy, but I was still afraid for his life as he dragged the Blutbad over to the patrol car. The other cop was questioning Monroe as I stepped forward.

The cop turned to look at me. "Do you know this guy?"

"Yes, he's my boyfriend, and he was defending me. That guy over there wouldn't take no for an answer, so he tried to stop him." I turned to Monroe. "Are you okay?"

Monroe nodded, taking in a breath. "Yeah, man. I'm all right."

I glanced back at the cop. "Please make sure that guy stays away from me."

We looked back toward the Blutbad, who was getting cuffed. "I don't think he'll be bothering you again," the cop replied. He walked over to the other cop, who mentioned something about priors and a bench warrant. Must have been why he'd tried to run.

The Blutbad looked at me as he was shoved into the back of the patrol car. "I'm not done with you," he called out with his red eyes blazing.

I refrained from replying and clung to Monroe's arm. Not done with me? Oh, I didn't want to think about it. The car door closed, and the officers got back in their vehicle. They drove off, taking the Blutbad with them.

I glanced up at Monroe. "Are you sure you're okay? Did he… did he bite you again?" I whispered as I ran my hands over the rips in his shirt.

Monroe shook his head. "It didn't get that out of hand, it was just a fist fight." I looked down at his arm. Unbuttoning his cuff, I slid his sleeve up, revealing the claw marks. "Okay, so a little more than a fist fight, but we kept it mostly civilized considering people could see us."

"Monroe, I'm so sorry." I held him tightly.

He reached for my shoulder. "Did he do this?"

I nodded into his chest. "It'll heal."

His low growl rumbled against my ear. "Maybe I shouldn't have been as civilized."

Monroe must have missed the part where the Blutbad was grinding on me. I wiped my mouth at the thought. My lips were becoming a target for undue advances. I was up to three this week.

"The cops have him. It's fine." I grabbed Monroe's hand. "Come inside. Let's get Chloe and get out of here."

Monroe and I walked into the bar as I searched for my BFF. She was in the corner with Slick, making out. There was another empty glass beside her. I shook my head as I approached.

Chloe broke from her kiss and turned quickly. "Oh, you're okay!" she exclaimed as her face flushed. "So, the cops took Mr. Big Bad away?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, they took him."

Slick grinned at Monroe. "Hey, it's Double Dead Guy. I remember you." He looked at me. "So he's your boyfriend now?"

I nodded. "Yeah, and just a chivalrous as ever."

"Guess you didn't need my help finding him after all." Slick laughed at me and then turned toward Monroe, looking him up and down. "Man, are you okay?"

Monroe bobbed his head, pulling his sleeve down. "Just a rough night." He glanced down at me, raising a quizzical eyebrow. "Umm, how would the bartender have found me?"

I held my breath. "I don't know." I turned my head quickly toward Slick to try to keep him from talking, but it was too late.

"She came in a few months ago," he began as I held my face in my hands. Oh, Slick, don't… "Wanted to see if I'd kept that copy of your license, bro." He grinned again. "But it seems she found you without it."

"Oh, really?" Monroe replied with a smug grin. My head dipped down as he slung his arm over my good shoulder. "Lucky she found me."

I strangled Slick hard in my mind. "Let's go, Chloe." I focused on my BFF, whose glassy eyes tried to focus on mine. "I'm about partied out tonight."

"You two go on." Chloe lolled her head up toward Slick. "I'm gonna… hang out here… a little longer." Her head dropped back down as she grinned. If she had any more to drink she'd be passing out instead of hanging out.

I glared at Chloe. "Let's go."

"Hey, it's fine," Slick said with his bright-white smile. "That guy isn't coming back, and I'll keep an eye on her." He gave me a wink.

That's what I was afraid of. I gave Chloe a look that said, 'Don't go having a one-nighter with this one.' She replied with a look that said, 'I can't hear you, I'm drunk.'

"Well, we're going." I went to hug Chloe. "Be safe," I murmured into her ear.

She handed me my purse as she staggered forward. "You, too." She was too drunk to stay here, but she was ten times more stubborn than I was, so it was useless arguing with her.

Monroe held me tight as we walked outside and toward his VW, parked by the large tree across the street.

"So, you came back for the copy of the license, huh?" Monroe laughed as we got in the car. "Stalker much?"

"It wasn't like that," I replied quickly. "I was just going to send you a thank you card."

"Yeah, right," he said while he laughed. "You didn't jam the cam wheel on your Wehrle clock to meet me, too, did ya?"

"No. I wouldn't know how to jam a wheel if I tried," I retorted as I buckled up. "The clock was just fate. I wouldn't purposely ever hurt my…" I trailed off as my mind went back to my broken cuckoo. Damn, Jack…

"Hey, Hun. I'm sorry. I'm still working on the clock. I didn't mean to bring that up."

"No, you're fine," I replied, rubbing my shoulder.

He looked down and sighed. "Is it okay? How deep is that wound?"

"It's not very deep," I lied, "but I'm more worried about you. Did he get you anywhere else besides your arm?"

"Not really. Just some bumps and bruises. Nothing that won't heal."

I lifted his sleeve again, tracing my fingers along his scratches. "I just fixed you, now you're gonna have scars again."

"Nah, I've got some tea tree oil and a little calendula, so there won't be a scar."

"Does he know what I am, Monroe?" I didn't want to add anyone else to that list I was accumulating.

"Well, he thinks he knows, but he doesn't want to believe it. So, it's hard to say. He kept asking me while we were fighting, but I didn't answer him, so maybe that wasn't such a good thing, either."

"Monroe, I'm so sorry. What were the odds that he would be at the same bar as we were?"

"Well, that bar usually has Blutbaden frequenting there from time to time. Yours truly, for example." He tapped his chest.

"I didn't know."

"You know the bar name kinda gives you a hint."

I shook my head. "Blue Moon Bar. Really?" This wasn't a cheesy movie or TV show. I thought about the Werewolf biker bar in _True Blood_ called Lou Pine's Bar. Lupines… Now that was a Wolf bar, for sure. But this was the real world. We weren't supposed to get silly puns like that in the real world. "Well, either way I'm glad you arrived when you did. Why were you there anyway?"

"I was going to surprise you, have a beer, and hang out, you know, since you seemed disappointed we weren't going to do anything tonight. I mean, I didn't expect we'd be doing _that _tonight, but since when do our plans ever work out the way we expect, huh?" He chuckled lightly.

I leaned against him. "Thank you for saving me. If you hadn't been there… I don't know what he might have done."

"Well, you got his attention, if you know what I mean." Monroe huffed. "Unfortunately, I smelled it all over him, and he rubbed it on you just to piss me off." He looked me up at down. "But with that dress, man, it's no wonder." Resting his eyes on my cleavage, he let out a low growl. They were hard to miss.

I straightened myself in the car seat. "So I smell like… his lust?" I swiped my hands down my dress. Yuck.

"Dude, it's like he was a pheromone train and you were Union Station."

This time I couldn't suppress a shudder of disgust. "It'll wash off, right?"

"Yeah, it'll be fine once you shower." His hands gripped the steering wheel. "Like I said, it was just to piss me off since you're not…" He shook his head.

"Since I'm not marked?"

Monroe sighed. "Yeah." He turned to look at me. "I'm glad you listened to me this time and didn't get involved."

I nodded. He didn't need to know that the reason I was trapped to begin with was because I was involved already. "Did your Alpha trump his Alpha?"

"Well, since the cops broke it up, we'll just say it was a draw. Besides, we couldn't exactly, you know, go all out like we normally would've, you know, considering we were exposed. If that had been the case, I would've had him down, no contest, man." He gestured his hand above the steering wheel.

I held my head in my hands along the drive over the Morrison Bridge. "I hope Chloe's okay."

"She's a tough girl. She'll be all right. That bartender said he'll keep an eye out, you know?"

"It's what he might do with the rest of his body that I'm worried about." I wrung my hands. "She should've just come with us."

Monroe chuckled. "Your friend is fine. I'm sure this isn't her first time in a bar."

"No, but she makes bad decisions when she's drunk."

"Let me take you home. You can pick up your overnight bag and some clothes for Bikram tomorrow and then stay at my place tonight."

"Bikram?"

"Yeah. Remember you promised you'd go with me this week?" He glanced my way. "Man, don't tell me you forgot."

This week had been so crazy, I was lucky I remembered my own name.

He sighed. "You forgot…"

"It's been a long week. I'm sorry. Couldn't we go next week?"

"It'll be good for you to go with me. I don't wanna skip it. You said yourself that I need to work on my routine. You know, this is part of it."

I nodded slowly. He had a point. "Okay. We'll go."

"Good," he replied with a slight smile.

I pulled out my phone. "You think we should call Nick about this?" My finger hovered over his name on my call list. He was probably sipping champagne and enjoying being engaged. My stomach was doing that pit thing again.

"Nah." He shook his head. "We'll tell him when he gets back or something."

"But that guy was taken in. Maybe we oughta just…"

"Renée. It'll be fine." He put his hand over my phone. "Let him have his vacation. We can all use a break now and then."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

I stood in the shower, scrubbing the Blutbad's lust off me. I'd brought a sealable bag to put my dress in, so the scent would be contained until I could take it to the drycleaners. My mind trailed back to tonight, then to Nick. He'd be back soon. I missed him being available. But talking to him would've been good tonight. But why? No, Monroe was right. He needed a break, and he needed to get engaged and be happy. He deserved to be happy.

Monroe was waiting for me, already clean and under the covers when I emerged from the bathroom. He took in a breath through his nose. "So much better," he said, smiling.

I crossed the room. "Glad to know that it's gone." Pulling back the covers, I climbed into bed with him.

"Your shoulder okay?" A small whine came out as he asked again.

I nodded. "It's fine, Monroe. Honestly, it was just a small scratch. It'll probably be gone by this time tomorrow."

"That quick, huh?"

I leaned against the headboard. "Yeah, scratches and small bruises are usually gone in twenty-four hours. Bigger things are three to four days. But if it's really severe, it'll leave a scar."

"And you never thought that was… unique?"

"It was my normal." I shrugged. "One doctor said he'd read about a rare genetic anomaly of rapid healing in a medical journal once. He said it could be something like that."

"Maybe someone did a study on a Waldgeist," Monroe suggested.

"It could be."

As I lay down, I snuggled up next to Monroe while he nuzzled my neck. He pulled back the strap on my chemise and lightly kissed my shoulder. I would've let him do more if he had wanted to, but I fell fast asleep almost instantly.

* * *

A/N: A little craziness at the Blue Moon Bar, but Monroe saved the day. Yay! (; Chloe seems to really like Slick, huh? LOL!

I'll see if I can do another today, but don't hold me to it. Stay Tuned!


	82. Chapter 82

**Chapter 82**

"Coffee?" Monroe asked as I leaned against the counter in his green hallway. He was wearing his red plaid shirt and his smile was bigger than usual.

"Sure," I replied. "You know I can never decline a good cup of your coffee."

Monroe grinned. "Wise woman."

He stepped away to work his French press in the kitchen as he hummed some Bob Dylan. It wasn't an older song, but one of his newer ones. Since when did he know music like that? I hummed along anyway.

"_Some things just last longer,__  
__Than you thought they would.__  
__And they never ever explain.__  
__I'm dreamin' of you.__  
__That's all I do.__  
__And it's driving me insane…"_

I shuffled over to the kitchen and rubbed Monroe's shoulders while he poured the coffee.

He turned as he handed me the mug. "Just the way you like it," he said. But it wasn't his voice.

As I looked up, my mug fell from my hands, shattering on the floor. It was Nick… in a beard… in Monroe's red plaid!

"Something wrong?" Nick asked with his blue-green eyes twinkling at me. A cell phone rang in the distance. "Better get that." He winked at me.

The ringing continued as it woke me out of my dreams. What the hell? I shook my head. I was spending way too much time at that trailer. That had to be it, right? I tried to nod back off.

"Nick," Monroe sighed and my heart leapt out of me. Did he know what I was dreaming about? Had I said something? My eyes shot open and I looked over at Monroe, who was talking into his phone.

"It's two-thirty..." Monroe let out a deep sigh. "We have a Bikram class at six a.m., and hot yoga on too-little sleep is how groin pulls happen. Aren't you supposed to be on vacation?"

"Is he okay?" I tugged at his white shirt. "Everything going well?" Monroe motioned a hand in my direction.

"But lemme guess, you need my help... All right. I get it," he groaned into the phone. "What do you got?"

I strained to hear Nick's side of the conversation, but then Monroe asked if Nick meant an alley cat. I sat up straight in bed.

"Klaustreich," Monroe scoffed. "Total jerks. Women love them, but it never ends well. Isn't that always the way?" Monroe looked over at me, softening his face briefly. "Well, sometimes, at least." I didn't love Heath when he tried to rape me, for sure.

Monroe told Nick in more detail about his ex, Molly, than what he'd shared with me. She'd left Monroe for a Klaustreich. No wonder he'd seemed so angry before. Monroe went on to tell Nick that the Klaustreich had slashed Molly's face as a last goodbye. I shook my head. Luckily Heath had only been able to claw at my back.

"Sleep with one eye open," Monroe warned Nick before hanging up the phone. He released a heavy sigh as he leaned on his side, facing me. His eyes had that fiery rage again; soulless and full of bad memories. I held him close to me, running my hand through his wild, curly hair.

"Nick didn't get attacked by a Klaustreich, did he?" I asked. Oh, hopefully he was okay. If that Klaustreich harmed him, I'd go hunt the damn cat down myself.

"No. He said it's some domestic dispute thing, more than likely."

"He's always on duty, isn't he?"

"Yeah. Apparently so. But why does it have to be at two in the freakin' morning?" He groaned again. "Now I'm all agitated and we need to get some sleep."

"Just Relax." I moved my hand from his hair down to his back. "Let's just clear our heads and close our eyes." My voice was gentle, soothing. I lightly hummed The Rolling Stones, and Monroe sighed, settling into my arms.

"_Baby you better get some sleep tonight.__  
__All you got to do is close your eyes.__  
__You better get some sleep tonight…"_

Nick could take care of himself. He'd be all right. I worked on clearing my own head as I drifted off to sleep.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Nick was tackling Heath the Klaustreich to the ground. He was shirtless and beads of sweat dripped from his chest.

"I'll protect you," he said and flashed me a smile as he held his boot against the Klaustreich's throat.

I ran over to him. "Thanks for saving me," I awed as he pulled me into a kiss.

A tug at my shoulder yanked me from my dreams.

"We need to get ready for Bikram," Monroe's voice echoed somewhere between my dreams and wakefulness. I grasped my pillow. "Renée," his voice continued. "Come on, dude, we've gotta go."

I rolled toward him, letting out a deliberate yawn. I cleared my throat before I spoke to remove the southern drawl. "What time is it?"

"Five. Well, later than five now. We gotta get moving." He leaned over to kiss me. "Happy Lunar-versary."

Holy crap, was it the fourteenth already?

"Happy Lunar-versary," I replied like I remembered. With the events lately I hadn't kept track. He was far better than me. And they said men were the ones who were horrible about remembering these kinds of things.

From behind his back emerged an orange rose. "For you, Hun."

He drew it across my bottom lip teasingly as I took hold of it. "It's lovely." I let its scent wake me up a bit more. "Interesting color." I glanced up at him. "So orange means…?"

He wiggled his eyebrows. "Desire."

"Oh, really?" My coy smile permeated. "So you desire me?"

"Had I'd known you were gonna wear a dress like that last night, I'd have skipped my meeting and desired you a helluva lot more, if you catch my drift." He rocked on his heels a bit. "And I'd done a better job at keeping you safe from assholes," he added, mumbling under his breath.

"Thank you for everything last night. You're gonna have to add damsel saving to your business cards." I swung my feet off the bed and managed to coax myself up. "And thank you for this." I held the rose to my nose again. God, I loved roses.

"Okay, not to ruin this sweet, endearing moment, but, umm, we really gotta move or we'll be late for class. And my instructor doesn't allow for tardiness, man. She's a stickler for punctuality."

"Right on it," I replied while holding back another yawn. It was too early for this, but I loved him, and I would suffer whatever for him. He always did for me.

A quick shower and a change of clothes later I was dressed for hot yoga. Monroe had cautioned me on attire. No cotton, since it would hold in sweat. Instead, I wore my pink sports bra. Although I was a bit exposed with it, I wasn't about to wear a full shirt in the heat. I'd found a pair of my yoga capris that were designed to whisk away moisture. I was as prepared as I could be.

"You feel comfortable in that?" Monroe asked. "You look really good in it," he grinned.

I glanced down. "Physically comfortable, yes." I nodded and looked over at his attire of a tank top and tight shorts. "You okay in that?"

"It's all dri-fit material. I'm fine, now let's go."

We settled in the car as Monroe drove.

"Here, drink this." He handed me a bottle of water from his bag. "I've got a few more in there. It wouldn't hurt for you to drink two before we get to the studio. It's important to stay well hydrated."

"So how hot is it going to be in there?" I asked.

"It's a steady hundred and five degrees," he replied with a grin. "Nothing like Portland weather, lemme tell ya."

I downed the first bottle and worked on a second as we crossed the Rose Island Bridge. Along the drive Monroe gave a brief history on Bikram Choudhury and his crippling, weight-lifting accident at age seventeen that had crushed his knees.

"It was with the guidance of his guru that Bikram created his twenty-six posture series, which restored his health." Monroe said in his teacher voice. "Some of the poses you're already gonna know."

"So how long is this class?"

"They're ninety minutes long."

"Wow, an hour and a half?" Hopefully I'd survive.

Monroe smiled. "The longer the better."

The Bikram studio wasn't too far from Monroe's house. We arrived on Southeast 16th Avenue in ten minutes and parked in front of the Sellwood Studio.

"This place is nicer than most. There are lockers for your stuff, and we can get a shower in the locker rooms right afterwards, which I highly recommend 'cause it ain't pretty afterward."

The rush of heat hit my face as we entered the studio. They already had it piping hot and it was like I'd stepped into a sweltering, July afternoon in Louisville. As we walked in, a tall, broad-shouldered woman with blonde hair came up to us.

"Morning, Monroe," she said with what looked like her version of a smile. She seemed heartfelt, but intimidating nonetheless. "So, who do we have with us today? Is this Renée?"

"Yeah," Monroe replied with a sheepish grin. "I talked her into coming with me."

Miss Intimidation reached out for my hand and shook it with a firm grip. "I'm Jess Riley. Nice to meet you. Heard a lot of good things." She gave me a knowing nod and another… smile? I smiled back with a smooth face.

As she let go of my hand, her face contorted quickly into a Lion, but then she retracted just as fast. Holy crap! I maintained my composure, but it was all I could do to fight back a shriek. A Lowen? Oh, God. I turned slowly to face Monroe, widening my eyes for only him to see. He rocked on his heels. Couldn't he have given me some warning? Come on, Monroe.

"Jess here works as a guard in Juvenile Detention, but she teaches Bikram on the side," Monroe said while grinning at Miss Intimidation.

"Yeah, either way I'm keeping people in shape." She let out a deep laugh, which only added to her nickname. "So, is this your first Bikram class?"

"Yeah. I do Ashtanga yoga, but not as much lately since I moved here."

"Oh, you're in for a treat, Missy." Her grin seemed more like she was ready to put me through Hell.

"So I've heard," I hastily replied.

She placed her hands on her hips. "Well, you both put your things away. Monroe can show you where everything is, and we'll get started here in fifteen minutes."

As we walked away, Monroe whispered, "So, umm, I kinda forgot to mention she was a Lowen."

"Gee, you think?"

"But you didn't flinch at her woge. You never cease to impress me with that, man."

"Good thing, because I really don't need another one knowing what I am."

"Aww, Jess is a pussycat compared to most Lowen. I've known her a long time. Even if she knew about you, she wouldn't hurt ya. She's not the like that son of a bitch with the Russell Crowe complex."

"I guess we'll see after this class."

Monroe pointed out the women's locker rooms, and I darted in, locating a locker to put my things in. I took another glance in the mirror and pulled my hair into a tight ponytail high on my head. No, it was still hanging too long. I redid it, and looped the end halfway though. There, much better.

Making my way back to the studio area, Monroe was waiting for me.

"Good, you've got your hair back," he commented at my up-do. "The less in your face, the better."

We set up our mats, placing towels down on top of them to catch the sweat. Oh, I was going to look pretty after this. My arms were already damp and we hadn't even started yet.

"I see a few new faces," Miss Intimidation began. "I want to welcome you to Bikram yoga." She went over a brief history similar to what Monroe had told me and an overview of the poses. "The heated room encourages detoxification, increased circulation, and provides for safe stretching," she continued. "These poses are designed to benefit every muscle, joint, ligament, tendon, and organ in the body. So please stay focused, and even if you feel ill, remain in the room. The contrast of heat and cool will only make you feel worse. Trust me on that."

Miss Intimidation caught my eyes and another grin passed her lips. Was that for me? Did she think I was going to hightail it out of here? A shot of my reckless spirit came on at the thought of her challenge. Oh, bring it on.

The first few poses went smoothly. Even with the heat, I moved gracefully from Eagle to Head to Knee, and then into Standing Bow. Monroe was moving effortlessly like he had the poses memorized, not really paying much attention to Miss Intimidation's guidance.

"Next is Balancing Stick," she said. "Now take this one easy, especially my new people."

I bit back a grimace and flowed into what seemed very much like a Warrior Three pose to me. I held my balance as the sweat dripped off me like a rain storm onto my towel. Ick. This must have been how Natalie felt when Mr. Foxy Loxy facilitated our classes.

"How are you doing?" Monroe quietly asked in my direction as we maintained our pose.

"Good. I was expecting worse, honestly."

"I told you. I knew you'd like it." Sweat beaded down his cheeks and the curls of his hair laid flat and matted against his forehead. I didn't want to know what I looked like.

I directed my attention back to Miss Intimidation, still keeping control of my pose. She nodded approvingly at me and placed a hand on her hip as she walked the room.

"Okay, let's move into the Standing Separate Leg Stretching Forehead to Knee." She moved back up to the front of the room to demonstrate. I spread my legs and dipped down to another familiar pose, but my foot caught the towel at an awkward angle, sliding my legs too far apart, and I almost fell backward. Crap!

"It's fine if this one gives you a bit of trouble. It takes time to master these poses." Miss Intimidation called out with a smirk in her voice. "Just do what you can." My cheeks burned and it wasn't due to the heat. Regardless, I repositioned myself and leaned into the pose, displaying more than perfect form. Ha, take that.

Pose after pose I held on, pushing against the heat and taking each challenge that was thrown my way.

"The last pose is a Final Breathing Exercise. Go ahead and sit down on your mats." She walked through the proper technique of filling your lungs through your diaphragm. With each breath my recklessness subsided. I'd successfully met each challenge head on.

Miss Intimidation walked up to us after we'd finished.

"Well, what did you think about Bikram?" she asked.

"The heat really intensifies it, but considering, it wasn't as difficult as I'd anticipated."

"Huh." She placed a hand on her hip. "I must have been too easy on you then." That loud laugh roared out of her once again. She slapped my back hard, striking the sweat, which made a squish sound. Double ick. I arched up sharply. The sting from her hand burned across my skin. Wow, either she didn't like me, or she was a hard-hitting woman. Maybe it was a little bit of both?

"We better hit the showers," Monroe said as I rolled up my mat and held the towels out in front of me. They were soaked. I was avoiding mirrors until after my shower, for sure.

I moved back into the locker room area. The cool air hit me and I shivered like I was in the Antarctic. My stomach lurched at the temperature difference, but I held it firmly. I wasn't going to retch. No, I could hold it back. I distracted myself with putting things away in the locker while pulling a fresh towel from my gym bag and the items I needed for the shower.

I used the hottest water setting I could stand to warm back up then inched it back to cool. Just getting the sweat off me felt more than wonderful. I lathered up and I had to admit my muscles felt the most relaxed they had been in a long while.

"You did really well in there," said a female voice behind me and I yelped as I spun around. The top of Miss Intimidation's head was visible over the shower door and she smirked at my response. "I like Monroe. He's a good guy," she said as I held myself the best I could in the shower. "I hope you think so, too."

"Of course I do," I replied. What the hell was she getting at?

She raised her brow. "He really seems to like you, so be good to him, okay?" Oh, wow. She was giving me a 'break his heart and I'll rip your face off' talk. Well, she'd made her point.

"Oh, I plan on it," I replied with a nod, keeping her gaze. I wasn't about to show fear, intimidating or not.

"I hope to see you back here again. Monroe likes his Bikram, and it's good if his partner shares that interest."

"I'll see what I can do." That was one way to encourage me to get into a routine. Yikes!

Miss Intimidation jerked a nod and walked off. I breathed out when I was sure she was gone. Holy crap. I shook myself and went back to my shower, quickly finishing up.

Monroe was smiling once I returned.

"So you wanna do this again sometime?"

I swallowed hard. "I think I'm obligated to say, 'yes.'"

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Monroe dropped me off at my house since I insisted that I needed to make sure Chloe had gotten back safe and sound. The smell of smoke hit my nose as I entered the living room. It was coming from the kitchen. Fire? Another Daemonfeuer? Oh, God! My bag dropped to the floor, and I darted in toward the direction of the smoke. I jumped back with a start as soon as I entered the kitchen.

"Tequila Sunrise! Good morning!" Slick said with a bright-white smile, holding my bottle of orange juice in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He was wearing blue boxer shorts and… nothing else, posed like an arrogant Adonis, chiseled torso and all. I refused to look and see if he was chiseled elsewhere. He paused and gave me a puzzled look. "Uh, is this your house?"

"Yes, it's my house."I scowled, walking toward him and snatching the juice out of his hand. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, he's kind of here with me." Chloe's voice came from behind me. I turned quickly. She was dressed in Slick's blue dress shirt and… nothing else. Together they had a whole outfit. Well, perhaps not.

"Oh, Chloe," I sighed out.

"What?" Chloe asked with a dismissive shrug. "I'm a single woman." Chloe casually walked into my kitchen, taking the orange juice from my hand and finding a glass in the cabinet.

"Yeah, you are," I sighed.

"So, this is a nice place." Slick said with a grin. "Snob Hill," he added with a respectful nod.

"Yeah, Snob Hill," I replied with as much sarcasm as I could muster. Harvey was definitely dead to Chloe. I glanced downward at the ashes of Slick's cigarette accumulating on my counter top. "Can you please put that out somewhere?" I gestured toward his hand. "I don't allow smoking in my house."

"Sorry. My bad. You got an ashtray or something?"

"No. I don't smoke," I replied tartly. Really? I motioned over to the sink. "Just take it over to there and run some water over it."

Slick made his way to the sink and I turned back to Chloe. "How are you feeling today?" I asked with a look that asked, 'Have you lost your freakin' mind?'

"I'm as hung over as one could be." She gave me a look that replied, 'My mind is just fine.' "And I assume you were as clear-headed this morning as always, right?"

"Yeah. No hangover." I smiled smugly. "But by the time I'd left I was practically sobered up anyway."

"Lucky," she scoffed while taking a sip from her glass. She made a painful face. "I need something stronger." She looked into the glass. "Besides, I had enough OJ last night." She set the glass down on the counter.

"You need an aspirin?"

Her blue eyes looked sweetly at me. "That and some coffee."

"I'll get some pills and French press you some java," I said with a shake of my head.

Through the wince of her headache an appreciative smile formed. "Thanks, Renée. I love you."

I looked back to Slick and raised an eyebrow. "So, are you sticking around?"

Slick sported a sheepish grin as he ran a hand across his washboard abs. "I really should head home." He faced Chloe. "I really had a good night with you, uhh…?"

"Chloe," she replied with a bit of sarcasm of her own.

"Right. Chloe," he repeated quickly. "Really good getting to know you." He winked at her. Oh, I'm sure it was good. He grabbed a banana from my counter top. "I'm just gonna change clothes." He stopped at the doorway and looked over his shoulder at Chloe. "But I'm gonna need that shirt back."

"Oh," said Chloe with a smirk. She turned toward me. "Guess I'll be back in a bit."

Chloe followed Slick and I shook my head. Poor Harvey. I moved toward my French press and pulled out my coffee grinder, going to work. By the time Chloe and Slick had returned with a decent amount of clothing on, coffee was ready and I had the bottle of aspirin from my medicine cabinet on the counter for her.

Chloe reached for the pills and took a sip of coffee to swallow them down. "Thank you, Renée. Thank you so much."

"Coffee?" I asked Slick, trying to be polite.

"Nah, but thanks anyway. I really should go." Yeah, he should've gone last night. "I'll just catch a streetcar… Unless one of you lovely ladies wanna take me home?" He watched our blank stares. "Okay, so I guess not."

"I'll just walk you to the door," I said with a motion of my hand.

"Thanks again, Chloe," said Slick with another grin and a wink.

Chloe nodded at him with a smile on her lips as he passed her by. I followed him into my living room, tisking at Chloe with my eyes along the way.

As we reached the front door, Slick leaned against the frame before I could open it. "Maybe I'll see ya around, Beautiful," he grinned as he winked. Really? Had he no decorum whatsoever? I merely shook my head in disgust.

"See ya around," I replied with a slight eye roll. Hopefully not for a long time. I reached for the doorknob, swinging open the door and knocking Slick off balance. Oh, darn.

"Bye, Beautiful," he said with a wave as he walked out.

I closed the door quickly behind him, turned, and shot a look at Chloe, who was leaning against the kitchen doorway. "Slick, really?"

"Sorry. I couldn't help it," she shrugged as we both went back into the kitchen. "Besides, you left me all alone to my own devices last night."

"Left you alone?" I echoed mockingly, reaching for a mug from the cabinet. "You must have been really drunk, because I clearly wanted you to come with me."

"Oh?" She feigned innocence. "I don't remember a lot about last night. Well, either way… I had to find something to do since you left me."

"Or someone," I scoffed at her as I poured myself a cup of coffee, breathing in the scent. "I'm sure you could've refrained."

"Oh, come on, Renée. Did you look at him?" She grinned despite her hangover. "But, damn, he sure knew his way around a bedroom."

"I'll bet Slick did," I said loudly without any remorse. Chloe held her head.

"Not so loud," she moaned. "And his name is Desmond," she added quickly.

"Desmond? Wow." I stifled a laugh as I took a sip from my mug. "Slick suits him much better."

"He's really a nice guy," Chloe argued as she and I took our coffees to the living room.

"Right, a real gentleman," I scoffed again.

Chloe settled on the couch, clutching her mug. I sat down next to her and crossed my legs. "And he's human," she continued. "So you see… I don't just go for Karnickelhöhles."

I quickly looked up at her. "Please don't tell me you slept with him because of what your brother said?"

"No, but this only proves I'm not an… artgleich." She almost hissed out the word.

"Chloe, he just said that so you'd butt out of his personal life. He didn't really mean it that way."

She took another swallow of coffee. "Well, I don't want anyone else thinking I'm like that. I can be attracted to others outside my Wesen species."

"Of course you can. You've had a crush on Johnny Depp for years," I replied while lightly elbowing her.

"Okay, that's not the same thing," she chided at me. "So how is Monroe? Was he okay after last night?" Chloe asked with concern. She was changing the subject. I'd let her off the hook for now.

"Yeah, he was fine. A few scrapes, but okay."

"So what happened last night exactly? I remember parts of it."

I filled her in about the Blutbad, and what happened outside. "Fortunately, Monroe showed up at the right time. My God, Chloe. That guy was a lunatic."

"I can't believe you went outside with him. Renée what if he'd killed you or raped you, or a combination of the two? Seriously!"

"It was better than him having rabbit stew with a side of Slick."

"He wasn't going to do anything in a bar full of people."

I shook my head "I don't know, but he might've. I couldn't risk you and…"

"Stop risking yourself." Chloe reached for my hand, cutting me off. "It's not worth it."

I leaned in, meeting her crystal blue eyes that were filled with worry. "Keeping you safe _is_ worth it. So this morning was interesting," I added. It was my turn to change the subject. "Monroe introduced me to Bikram today."

"Really?" Chloe paused. She was fully aware I wasn't going to listen to her warnings, so she played along. "Is that the hot yoga thing you told me about?"

"Yeah, and it was definitely hot in there." I sank back into the couch."And then there were a few surprises." I told her about the Lowen Bikram instructor.

"And he didn't even tell you before you went in there?" Chloe asked with her eyes wide.

"Yeah, he tends to forget other things when he's in teaching mode," I replied.

"That's a big thing to forget," she scowled slightly.

"It was fine. Well, except for when she cornered me in the shower."

I detailed the encounter with Miss Intimidation and our chat while I was vulnerable. I hadn't mentioned my little shower pow-wow to Monroe. It was silly to discuss it. His friend just wanted to make sure I was good for him and she'd done well to scare the crapola out of me. With the stupid dreams I'd had last night, maybe she wasn't so wrong to question it. I didn't want to think about that right now.

"What the fuck? So this Lowen chick just confronted you while you were naked?"

"Yeah. It seems I might become a Bikram regular if I want to stay in her good graces." I forced a chuckle. "That's one way to keep attendance up."

"Well, just be careful. You've already had your fair share of Lowen in your face." She shook a mothering finger at me. "You need to keep what you can see hidden from this one, Renée."

"I don't think finding out I'm a Grimm will earn her trust, and right now I don't want to be on her bad side." I cringed. Pussycat or not, being on her bad side might be fatal. I could see the headlines now, 'Death by Bikram.'

Pete came downstairs, sporting a grin. He was dressed, thank goodness, and he seemed like he was heading out somewhere.

"Where are you off to this morning?" I asked him.

"Going to help Rosalee with the spice shop," he bit back his grin. "So, how are you today, Chloe?" He gave a shake of his head.

"I'm fine. Going shopping soon."

Pete looked Chloe over. "You might need a few hours to recoup after your night of partying. Ya know I really didn't need to hear all the after-party events through the walls." He shuddered for effect.

"Well, Desmond the human and I were just having fun."

Pete laughed. "Desmond the human? That's not what you were calling him last night."

Chloe actually blushed, which didn't happen often. She stood a bit too quickly, and held her head again. Pete laughed. "I'm going to take a shower," she said and pushed past Pete as she climbed the stairs.

I chuckled once I heard the door slam upstairs. "There's coffee if you'd like some."

"Nah, Rosalee and I are going to grab breakfast before we get to work."

"Breakfast, huh?" I gave him a knowing look.

"It's the most important meal of the day." Pete winked. "So you wanna join in on the fun? Rosalee could use all the help she can get."

"Yeah. I could see if Monroe could come with us," I replied as I savored the last of my coffee. "He'd probably enjoy the opportunity to look around if nothing else."

"I know I've enjoyed it. Just the books alone are amazing. That place is huge compared to the Wesen Fachgeschäft in Louisville."

I tilted my head. "Fachgeschäft?"

"Yeah. A specialty shop. It's where _we_ can go to get the things that most pharmacies don't know a thing about."

"And there was one in Louisville? How come no one ever told me about that?"

Pete bit at his upper lip. "Well, Née… Umm, you gotta understand that with your ability, it wasn't exactly safe to have you knowing about something like that." More separation. I suppressed a sigh. "But now that you're… Well, you're half Wesen, so it's okay if you know." Pete resumed his smile.

"And here I just thought Freddy had great spices and teas," I replied dryly. "But it explains the Jacene better." And after Monroe's talk about Freddy, it explained the other things like gallenblase. Was that considered a specialty item, too? Pete didn't need to know about that. "So, how much is there left to pack at the spice shop?" I asked instead.

"Oh, didn't I tell you? We're unpacking."

I tilted my head "Unpacking? I thought she was going back to Seattle."

"She might later, but for now she has to stay for the trial, and then there's her brother's house to deal with. So while she's here, she decided to keep the spice shop open and try to sell off some of the merchandise. A lot of the things in there won't keep, and most of it she has no use for. She and I worked on the place yesterday, but there's still a lot to do."

So, the Fuchsbau was staying. Hmm… At least she could make some money off the shop this way.

Pete raised an eyebrow. "So, are you going to talk Chloe into coming with you? It would be great if she could help out, too."

"Yeah, I can talk her into it. She'll hate me, but I'll make it up to her somehow."

Pete laughed. "Just don't tell her I asked her to come or I'll have to hear about all the way back to Louisville."

"Don't worry," I said with a grin. "I know how to speak Chloe."

"I'm glad someone does," he smirked. "It's a difficult and vulgar language."

* * *

A/N: Okay, so obviously back to story mode. Phone calls from Nick late at night about Klaustreichs and talks of groin pulls. Ahh, love that show!

I hope you like the spin I put on Jess Riley. You may remember her from "The Bottle Imp." It's my way of solving the mystery of why Monroe would know a Lowen that works in Juvi. Seems Miss Intimidation has no problem scaring Renée a little bit, huh?

More Nick dreams, hmm? Your author is definitely "Team Nick's Beard" so I wanna an opportunity to write him in with one. haha! We'll see what happens with those dreams and feelings soon enough. Nick is still out of town...

Gonna stop here. more chapters soon. I love comments, so if you're lurking/reading, send me some feedback. Thanks for reading as always, and STAY TUNED! (:


	83. Chapter 83

**Chapter 83**

"So why are we here again?" Chloe whispered to me as I lifted a crate of powdered herbs onto a nearby chair.

I glanced over my shoulder as her scrunched nose wiggled at me. "Because I owe Rosalee one for helping me with Jack, and your brother is enjoying her company."

"Okay, maybe I need to rephrase the question. Why am _I_ here?" She put a few more books on the shelf.

"Because you're visiting me, and I'm helping Rosalee, so now you're here with me... visiting." I smiled at my logic.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Or doing manual labor is more accurate."

"But we're doing it together, so it's good. Besides, you've enjoyed the books in here. Think of it as an opportunity to add to all that knowledge, which you find fun, right?"

"Oh, don't try to Tom Sawyer this, Renée. This is not what I consider fun," she scowled. She knew me too well for my smooth talking to work. "There's a boutique I want to browse through in Nob Hill and it's my last day here. If I'm going to be in Portland instead of Florida, I'd rather shop then spend my vacation time helping a Fuchsbau."

I pulled out my car keys. "You don't have to stay." I gave her a blank stare.

She looked down at the keys then back to me. "Well, I'm not going to leave you here," she scowled again. "I want you to go with me."

"We'll go," I said, "_after_ we do this."

"Fine," she sighed. "But this better go into that 'Good Karma Box' you're always spouting off about."

I grinned at her as I worked with another crate. "Your good Karma is growing by leaps and bounds." I picked up one of the jars. Dried Datura metel? What in the devil was this?

"I'm going to go grab some more books," she sighed a bit more dramatically, but then she gave me a small smile. "Oh, the things I do for the ones I love."

"The boutiques will be open until six at least. I promise we'll stop by before they close."

"Yeah, yeah." She shook her head. "I know _your_ promises."

I looked up. "We will go, I swear."

"I won't hold my breath," Chloe laughed as she went to the main room.

Monroe bounded into the back room with a childlike grin on his face. "This place is so cool, I gotta tell ya." He came over and put his arm around me. "I mean, I knew Freddy had a lot to offer, but now that I'm really getting to see the veritable cornucopia of inventory in here… Well, it's just, you know..."

"So cool?" I filled in the words.

"Exactly," he grinned as I looked up at him. "Just keep track of the time for me, will ya? 'Cause I've got a watch to deliver this evening, and being late looks bad when your job is, you know, all about time."

"I won't let you get sidetracked," I assured him. "I'm glad you're not burdened by doing this." I glanced at the doorway to the main room where Chloe had traipsed off to.

"Nah, just the opposite. Plus, I mean, like you said, we owe Rosalee one."

"Like I said?" I asked with a hint of suspicion. Monroe had excellent hearing.

He bit back his grin. "Yeah, well… You girls talk loud."

"Right, because our whispering is deafening," I smirked while putting up another jar.

"So, when are you going boutiquing?" Monroe asked, giving me a squeeze.

"Sometime before they close or I'll have a fit-to-be-tied bunny to apologize to."

"You know, not that I don't enjoy your friends being here and all, but I'm going to be happy to have you to myself once they leave tomorrow. Hot yoga was good this morning, but we didn't have time to continue that heat, you know… like, elsewhere." Monroe kissed my neck lightly before letting me go, leaving a tingle that drifted down my spine.

"That's the kind of heat I enjoy." I bit my lip slightly.

Although Monroe and I had spent time together, we hadn't had much time to ourselves since Chloe and Pete had arrived. While I was going to miss my BFF desperately, I was a smidge happy to get some real alone time with Monroe after tomorrow morning. But then Nick would be back soon. My mind wandered off the Monroe path over to the one that led to Nickland. Why did I keep doing that? But he was coming back engaged and happy. I needed to get rid of these stupid thoughts and focus on my own happiness.

"You know we still need to celebrate our lunar-versary."

"The rose was more than plenty," I replied. He desired me and my cheeks warmed at the thought.

"Nah, that was just a gestural thing," he waved his hands.

"How should we celebrate?" I asked with a coy grin.

"Oh, I have plans for tomorrow." He wiggled his eyebrows as he grinned. "Good, solid plans that won't get botched up this time."

"Okay, Mr. Planner. Any chance I can be privy to these plans of yours?"

Monroe wrapped his arms around my waist. "They involve you coming over and then the rest are surprises."

I gave him a knowing grin. "How did I not see that one coming?"

Monroe's cell phone rang. He let me go and pulled it from his shirt pocket. He rolled his eyes slightly while glancing at the display. It had to be Nick. I sucked in my breath.

He let out an exaggerated sigh before pressing the button. "Hey Nick, I thought a vacation for you kinda meant, you know... a vacation for me, too." Monroe paused, and then his face soured slightly. "My groin is fine, thank you."

I glanced up quickly in his direction. Monroe rolled his eyes and waved the comment off, shaking his head.

As he continued listening to Nick, his eyes widened. "Whoa, whoa, whoa... Is this a joke? That sounds like a Seltenvogel, if they weren't extinct."

"Seltenvogel?" I repeated, setting down the jar I was holding in my hand. That was like the Wesen version of the dodo bird. Chloe had said they died out eons ago. "Nick actually spotted one?"

Monroe put his hand to the receiver. "It sure sounds like it."

"Seltenvogel?" Chloe poked her head into the back room. In the main room Pete and Rosalee were faintly echoing the Wesen name, too. Monroe turned and continued to talk to Nick. "Yeah, Renée and I are helping Rosalee out in the shop."

Chloe cleared her throat.

"...and Chloe and Pete are with us. So yeah, the gang's all here. But let's get back to the Seltenvogel."

"Bring the phone in here, Monroe," Chloe called out.

Monroe told Nick a little history on Seltenvogel lore as we both walked to the main room. Pete and Rosalee were looking at Monroe with curiosity.

"In ancient times they were highly-valued. Usually kept prisoner, you know, like a concubine or a parakeet... Once in their life, a Seltenvogel produces this kinda large… glandular thing."

I think it's called..." Rosalee began, but then Pete and Rosalee said in unison, "an Unbezahlbar." They looked at each other and grinned. It was geeky, yet adorable.

Monroe's face was nonplussed as he turned toward Pete and Rosalee. "Easy for you two to say." He went back to the phone. "They think it's called an..." Monroe shook his head and held the phone out as Rosalee said the term again, enunciating each syllable.

"An Un-be-zahl-bar," Monroe mimicked the syllables into the phone.

"My brother has a book," Rosalee said while moving away from the bookshelves to another shelf in the center of the room.

I nudged Chloe, "I thought you said Seltenvogel laid golden eggs."

Chloe shook her head. "Yeah, I thought they did. I don't recall the glandular part." She let out a sigh. "And how does my brother know more about this than me? I'm the researcher in the family."

"Looks like Pete has been doing his own research lately." He sure showed me a thing or two about Waldgeists.

Chloe and I crossed the room to where Pete and Monroe were already huddled. Rosalee located the book and thumbed through the pages until she rested a finger on the page about Unbezahlbars. It included a diagram with steps on removing it from the Seltenvogel's throat.

Monroe put his phone on speaker and laid it on the top shelf, then lifted the book and read Nick the information. "Okay, uh, it is a dense mineral deposit which grows in the throat sack."

Rosalee read along with him. "It develops something like an egg." Her lips curved into a smile which was shared by Pete as they exchanged glances. Wow, they really _were _getting chummy. I moved my eyes back to the book before Rosalee could notice I was watching them.

"If the stone gets too big," Monroe continued, "it needs to be delivered. And the trick is getting it out intact, because if it's damaged, it's, you know, worthless."

"Okay, but what made them so valuable?" Nick asked.

"Well, it's unbelievably rare, for one thing," Monroe noted.

Chloe was peering over Monroe's arm. "I knew it! The Unbezahlbar's compound has the same mass, density and appearance as gold." Chloe practically sang out as she gave a smug smile toward her brother. "It's a golden egg."

Monroe glanced over at Chloe. "If you believe in that kinda thing."

"Good going, Sis," Pete replied with a smile. He was definitely trying to impress Rosalee. Any other time he would've responded with something witty and insulting Chloe's way. I'd seen it countless times before.

"I'm guessing a Klaustreich would know this, too?" Nick asked through the phone.

"Oh man," Monroe groaned. "This is the woman who's with the Klaustreich?"

"Yeah."

Chloe sighed in my direction. I nodded. We were good with silent conversations. Both of us were thinking about Heath and my attack.

"Listen," Monroe continued, "if he's anything like the guy I went to high school with, as soon as he gets what he wants, she's going to be in big trouble, man. And when I say big trouble, I mean she's gonna get plucked, okay? Big time." Monroe had hit the nail on the head with that statement.

"Be careful Nick. They aren't too fun when they don't get what they want, either. And watch those claws. They'll slice you in two," I added. Hopefully he wouldn't learn first-hand what those claws were actually capable of. My recklessness wanted to take a trip to Whispering Pines, but I ignored the idea. That was silly.

Nick thanked us and hung up. Monroe put his phone back in his pocket and let out a breath while shaking his head.

"Damn Klaustreichs and their need to possess everything around them," Chloe scowled. "I feel really bad for that woman."

"Well, she should've known not to get mixed up with one. I mean, come on, a cat and bird? That's like a recipe for..." Monroe halted his sentence and looked at Rosalee and Pete, who were giving him an odd look. "I mean, not that there's anything wrong with... Or that it's a..." Monroe turned to me quickly with eyes wide, begging for help.

"Klaustreichs are just bad news," I said. "But some women get ensnared by their charms." Thank goodness I wasn't some women.

"But Nick will take care of it," Monroe added, breathing out a sigh and looking relieved. I think it was more for getting out of that awkward conversation than it was for the safety of the Seltenvogel. I put my arm around him, giving him a squeeze.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

We took a break from boxes and books for lunch at a Polynesian restaurant called Trader Vic's on Northwest Gilsen Street, which was only a few blocks away. They had a few decent vegetarian selections, and with the company I was keeping, that was what we needed today. Did Rosalee practice vegetarianism? We'd know soon enough. The weather was breezy and cool, but surprisingly not drizzling, so we walked.

Ten minutes later we arrived in front of the restaurant. Two large tiki statues stood on either side of the wooden main entrance door. The inside was much more elaborate. Tiki style furniture, statues, masks, and hanging glass floats gave the tropical ambiance of walking into a hut on the south pacific.

"Wow," Chloe awed as we walked inside. "And here I was all excited when Louisville got a Hard Rock Café."

I smiled back at her. "There's a lot of great places in Portland."

A waitress dressed in black and sporting a pink lei came toward us. "Follow me," she said and shortly after we settled into our seats, perusing the menu.

"Monroe, can I get you a Pina Colada?" Chloe was literally biting her lip not to laugh.

"Uh, it's kinda early to be drinking..." Then the light bulb went off in his head. "Oh, hardy har-har. You know, I'm kinda done with the whole 'Werewolves of London' thing, you know, after what happened this week."

"I couldn't help myself." Chloe let out a laugh and even I had to chuckle.

I ran a hand through Monroe's wild, curly locks. "But I have to admit, your hair is perfect." I grinned at him.

"Well, good to know," Monroe scowled. "Can we, like, focus on food instead of jokes, okay?"

I turned to Pete, who was sharing a menu with Rosalee. He caught me eyeing him and gave me a knowing smile then looked back at the menu. They were cute together.

"So, what looks good to you, Hun?" Monroe asked as he and I did the same with our menus. Chloe glanced at both couples on either side of her. For the first time my friend seemed lonely, and that was not a look she wore well.

"Renée?" Monroe asked. I was lost in thought.

"Oh, I was thinking the tofu curry with a side of edamame." I glanced up to meet his dark brown eyes. "What about you?"

"Actually that was what I was going for," he grinned at me, "with a side of Szechuan beans, stir fried with ginger and garlic."

"Great minds think alike."

"You know, you're getting good at picking out vegetarian dishes."

"Now I just need to get better at making them."

He chuckled. "Small steps."

Our waitress returned to take our orders. Monroe and I were on a ticket and Pete paid for Rosalee.

"Yeah, well, I'm on my own," Chloe said softly.

"I've got yours," Monroe offered with a smile in her direction.

"Thanks," she meekly replied.

Lunch arrived quickly. Rosalee had gone meat-free on her entrée after taking her time with the menu. Perhaps she was just being respectful. Conversation was light as Pete and Chloe discussed work.

Pete cleared his throat. "So, I'm looking at a few companies here in Portland. They have a couple of openings for a chemist that pays much better and there's more room for advancement."

Chloe shot him a look. "You aren't actually considering moving here, are you?" That look wanted to add, 'because of the Fuchsbau.'

"It's something I've been considering the last few weeks actually," Pete replied as he held back a sheepish grin, avoiding my gaze. Apparently, it wasn't the Fuchsbau he wanted to move for. "Portland has a lot of potential in the scientific field and Louisville just doesn't have that for me anymore. Plus, I already know Née and Monroe here," he turned toward Rosalee with a grin, "and if you stay, then I'll know you, too."

Rosalee beamed as a dash of color hit her cheeks. "I don't know if I'm staying yet. But Portland is a pretty nice place. I've missed being here."

"You didn't tell me you've been thinking about this," Chloe snapped and Pete turned his head back in her direction.

"I didn't think I needed your permission or anything, Sis."

Chloe scowled. "No, but it'd be nice to know if my brother was going to move clear across the country."

"I would've told you before I actually moved," Pete laughed "I'd need your help packing." Pete looked up at me. "So, what do you think, Née? Think I'd fit in?"

I shrugged. "It's different from home, but I like it here. I'm sure you'd adapt just fine, and you've been stagnant at your job for a while."

"Don't encourage him, Renée," Chloe hissed across the table.

I refrained from elbowing her since we were in public. "If he wants to move, it's his choice. He's a grown-up."

Chloe shot daggers through her crystal blue eyes, and then turned her glowering gaze back to Pete. "Sure, go. Maybe everyone I care about ought to just pack up and move to this crazy town." That was Chloe's way of being nice. She told him she cared about him.

"Well, I for one wouldn't mind you being around either," said Monroe, setting his fork down. "If you need any assistance in places to live, I've got a friend who's in real estate that, you know, might be able to help. He owes me a favor."

Pete nodded appreciatively while Chloe stabbed at her salad with a fork.

I glanced at my watch, "Where is your delivery at, Monroe?"

"On the North side of town."

"You have about thirty minutes to get there."

"Crap!" Monroe said as he stood up. "I hate to cut this short, but I've got to get going. I'll come back afterwards, though." Monroe gave me a quick kiss and laid some bills on the table.

The conversation became a bit strained between the bunny siblings as we finished lunch. Chloe was quiet and seemed lost in thought on the walk back. Rosalee and Pete had gone ahead, so I stuck with Chloe while she trudged forward.

"Hey, it'll be fine," I said and nudged her.

"He's not really serious, right?" she asked.

"Maybe, but even if he moves here, it's not like you won't ever see him again."

"Don't tell him this, but he's the only sibling I really like hanging around with. I mean, I love my brothers and sisters, don't get me wrong. But Pete and I have always been close, and if he leaves me too…" she trailed off with a sigh.

I wrapped my arm around her. "He's not running away just yet."

"Have I mentioned how much I hate Portland?"

"Yeah, just a few times," I replied.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

The next few hours we continued to work on the spice shop. It was starting to look the way I'd remembered it, which was bringing back memories of Freddy again. I erased the thoughts from my mental white board and continued with moving bottles and jars of things I could barely pronounce to the shelves.

My cell rang as I was organizing bottles of Boswellia sacra and Commiphora myrrha.

"Dudette," said Donnie with a grin in his voice.

"Hey, how are you?"

"I'm good, but I just wanted to tell you I'm still searching for that vinyl you want. Man, your boyfriend wasn't kiddin'; it's like non-existent, dude. Hugues Nuages is like a Hugues nowhere to be found anywhere, man."

"Oh," I replied with a tinge of disappointment in my voice. "So I guess it was worth a try."

"No, don't fret yet, Dudette," Donnie said. "I still have a few other ideas up my sleeve. I'm just sorry it's taking some time, and I didn't want you to think I'd forgotten or anything."

"Oh, no. I didn't think that."

Chloe came up, silently pointing at the phone. "It's Donnie," I said as I held the receiver with my hand.

"Ooh, let me talk to him when you're done," she whispered with a smile. I nodded.

"I'm determined to find it," continued Donnie. "I'm, like, on a mission from the music gods."

I laughed. "Well if you find this Hugues Nuages record I will definitely owe you one, and the music gods will be pleased, too, I'm sure. Hey, Chloe wants to talk to you a minute."

"Chloe's in Portland?"

"Yeah, she came… for a visit." I hesitated. It was partially true.

I passed the phone Chloe's way. Rosalee poked her head around the corner.

"Were you just talking about Hugues Nuages a moment ago?" she asked with eyes bright.

"Yeah," I replied. "Do you know of him?"

"Know of him?" she gasped. "He's only the most talented, virtuoso Austrian Zitherist there was," she gushed. Apparently, I was not up to par on my Zitherists. Clearly this guy was a Wesen legend for some reason.

"I only know of him because of Monroe," I replied with an awkward grin. "I'm trying to find a replacement record for him as a surprise."

"Oh, they're hard to find," she nodded. "I'd love to have one myself."

Rosalee went on to tell me about how Hugues Nuages had lost his leg in a skiing accident when he was a kid and how she'd adored his music growing up. I nodded while trying not to grin. It was like watching Monroe get excited. Honestly, this was the most animated Rosalee had been, considering everything she'd been through recently. It seemed Hugues was a bringer of joy. Who knew a Zitherist had that much power?

Monroe returned an hour later and Chloe was getting antsy to go shopping.

"It's five forty-five, Renée. Stores close at six. Your promises are about as empty as these jars," she said while holding up the two in her hands. "I should've known we wouldn't leave."

"I'll come up with something, I promise. You'll get to go shopping."

"Promises, promises. Empty words," she sighed dramatically. "If you take me to Target that really won't count. You know that, right?"

I suppressed a smile. She knew me too well. "It won't be Target."

It was dark by the time we took another break. Pete and Rosalee were discussing the best uses for pine roots and resin while Chloe was engrossed in a book on herbal medicine throughout history. Monroe and I headed to the back room for some alone time.

"Hey, so I really didn't want our second lunar-versary thing to be as bad as the first one."

"We're in one piece, so it's faring better already. But if that Blutbad finds us again near our third one, I'm gonna think we're cursed."

"Tell me about it. Let's hope he stays behind bars where he belongs."

"This is a nice, relaxing way to celebrate." I grinned up at him. "Besides, I don't mind organizing things here. As long as we're together, then that's all that matters, right?"

Monroe nodded. "Well, tomorrow we're gonna celebrate for real, okay?"

"After Chloe and Pete leave, we'll make up for lost time."

A flash of red hit his eyes. "I like the sound of that."

"Let's get back out there and finish up." I motioned with my hand. "I have to come up with shopping ideas after this."

Monroe chuckled. "Good luck with that." He perked up his ears. "Why do I hear Nick all of a sudden?"

My eyes shot up toward the door. Was he here? Was he back? My breath caught in my throat.

We moved quickly back to the main room. Nick wasn't in the spice shop. Pete and Chloe were crowded around Rosalee, who had her phone out.

"Nick, you need to get that stone out of her before it cuts off her airway," said Rosalee as we approached.

Monroe glanced down at the phone and then to Rosalee. "Is that Nick? He called you?" He glanced back to Nick on the video chat. "You called her?"

"Can you guys do this later?" Rosalee replied bitterly. "That girl needs help."

"What's going on?" I asked Chloe.

"It's the Seltenvogel. She's about to deliver, so to speak."

"Really?!" I turned my direction back to Rosalee's phone.

"She says I need to take it out," said Nick in a panic.

Rosalee pointed to Pete. "You grab the book," She went back to Nick. "No, you... you need to cut it out of her. Do you have a knife?"

"Uh, yeah, I do." Nick set the phone down. The video showed him searching his pockets. Pete had located the book and turned the pages until he found the one we'd read before about the Unbezahlbar.

"Here's the information," said Pete. He moved the book toward Rosalee as he rested his finger on the procedure. Chloe and I darted over to the other side of the shelf, trying to read upside-down. No matter which direction we viewed it, this was not going to be an easy process.

Monroe stood behind Pete as he looked at the diagram. "Oh, boy," he grimaced.

"Okay, the cut should be made vertically along the widest point of the Unbezahlbar," Rosalee directed as she read from the book.

"The book says to make sure the skin is stretched tightly," Pete called out, "and press the knife through the flesh until it grazes the hard surface of the stone."

Nick sighed. "Okay."

Apparently he'd set the phone down. Tall trees were the only things visible on the phone screen. Gasps and whimpers from the Seltenvogel were all we could hear.

We stared at Rosalee, who was gripping the phone tightly. "Nick? Update," she said loudly.

Nick's head bobbed quickly back into view. "Uh, a little busy here."

"Nick, you need to avoid cutting near the anterior jugular vein, so just be careful, buddy," warned Pete as he read. "Stay in the center and watch the sides."

"Uh, not helping."

"You want to get close, but not too close," added Rosalee.

"How will I know if I'm too close?" Nick asked with an unsteady breath.

"Dude, you'll know," said Monroe. "Tons of blood. Trust me, it's not pretty. I've been there."

I glanced up at him.

"Well, not recently or anything," Monroe added quickly. "Thank goodness."

"He can do this, right?" I asked aloud.

"If he can't then that Seltenvogel may not make it," whispered Monroe as his eyes widened. "No pressure or anything."

"Not helping, either, Monroe," said Nick.

"Sorry," Monroe replied, sheepishly.

Nick's head came back into view again. "Okay. Okay. I think I'm, uhh... I'm done." He was gasping for breath himself now.

"All right," said Rosalee. "Now slip your hands into the cut and gently detach the Unbezahlbar from the Faserig membrane, holding it in place."

"When it separates from the membrane, you'll feel a slight pop from the stone," Pete added.

"Okay," replied Nick in a nervous tone a few moments later. "Okay, it popped."

"Okay, that's great," Rosalee said hurriedly. "Just, umm... Just simply lift it up… and out."

"Oh, God," Nick muttered through the phone.

I reached for Chloe's hand as we waited for Nick to respond. Hopefully he'd done everything right. God, he was brave. There were a few loud exhales and a chuckle.

Pete turned to Rosalee, "Is that a good sign?"

She furrowed her brow. "I don't know."

Suddenly a hand appeared on the screen, holding a jagged, golden lump. He'd done it. Oh, my. He'd done it!

"Oh... wow," sighed Rosalee. "How is she?"

"She... she seems to be breathing a lot better," Nick replied as his voice returned to normal. "I think she's gonna be okay."

"Great job, buddy," said Pete with a grin. "You've just done something really rare."

"Yeah, nice going, dude," Monroe added. "Uh, call me later, will you, when this all calms down, okay?"

Rosalee set her phone down as we all let out a much needed breath.

"Wow…" said Monroe as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

Rosalee laughed. "That's something you don't see every day."

"That was exciting," said Chloe. "Who knew we'd ever get to witness something like that?"

I smiled. "I'm just glad Nick was there to help her." I looked up to Pete and Rosalee. "You guys did great walking him through it."

"He did the real work. We just read the book," Pete replied. "I wonder why they were out in the woods."

"Maybe they were trying to get away from the Klaustreich," suggested Monroe. "Hopefully that Seltenvogel is able to fly the coop for good." He shook his head and chuckled lightly. "This must be the season for rare stuff. I mean, I find out I'm dating a Waldgeist and now, you know, Nick's, like, finding a Seltenvogel with a golden egg." Rosalee jerked her head in my direction with her doe eyes as wide as if I had headlights pointed at them."I mean next we're gonna find a..."

"A Waldgeist?" Rosalee's voice was unbelieving as I just stood there, wishing I was anywhere else. I furrowed my brow at Monroe, who paused mid-sentence, holding his hand gesture like a statue.

"How is that even possible?" Rosalee continued.

Monroe gulped as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. "Uh, well she's..."

"I'm half Grimm, half Waldgeist." I spoke up. It was no use beating around the bush on this one.

"But they're a myth. They're..." She was talking and moving to books, flipping pages. "The legends talk about them like... Here." She pointed to an open book in her hand. "They clearly say legend."

"Well, they aren't as mythological as we thought," Monroe replied, scooping up the book. "Much like we found out that, you know, the Seltenvogel does, in fact, still exist and, you know, can grow a gold egg in their..." He moved his hand across his throat, "glandular area."

Rosalee came toward me, and it was my turn to be wide-eyed. She looked me up and down, sniffing me slightly. Why did they keep doing this?

"She seems human." Rosalee turned to Monroe, who just nodded.

"It's kinda mind-blowing right?" His gaze went back to the book. "I'm right there with ya, man."

"So what other parts of the legends are true?" She asked as she spun her head back toward me.

Oh boy, how much did I want to tell her? I trusted Rosalee, and she had more than proven she was as genuine as they come. So I told her everything.

Rosalee placed her hand on her head. "Whoa," was all she could say after I finished my epic tale of insane grandmothers, elders inside trees, and what had happened after Jack had stabbed Monroe.

I leaned against the counter. "Yeah, it's been a startling revelation for me, too."

She let out a breath as her hand dropped to her side. "Just when I think it can't get any more complex." She shook her head.

"Complex is becoming my new middle name," I replied with a small smile.

"Umm, some of this stuff doesn't come off like they're a legend," Monroe said with a strain in his voice. "Man, this reads more like a Waldgeist take-out menu, if you ask me." Monroe looked up from the book, his face pallid. "Your parts are used for, like, a lot of gruesome stuff." I crossed the room as Monroe clutched the open book to his chest. "Umm, you really don't need to see this," he insisted.

"Hand it over," I told Monroe, holding out my open palms.

With a heavy sigh, he lowered the book and laid it in my hands. A full diagram of different body parts were outlined on the pages in front of me. Wow, he wasn't kidding. Perhaps this was what the Hexenbiests had figured out with all their trials and errors. My head flooded as I read through the descriptions. Everything from my heart to my eyes could be mixed in something to cure a myriad of different ailments. It wasn't limited to Hexenbiests. I was a walking pharmacy. I looked up at Monroe, who was still gravely pale.

"Dude, I told you. You didn't need to see that."

"It's better to know this way than while someone is popping out one of my eyeballs." My eyes stung as I cringed at the thought. Oh, crap. I didn't want to think about it, he was right. I laid down the book. No more reading. My body was a temple not a buffet.

Monroe turned the book toward him as he flipped more pages. "Oh, here's something else. Your amygdala, which is in the temporal lobe right here…" Monroe touched the side of his head as reference. "That area of the Waldgeist's brain is larger than most, which this book suggests is the scientific proof of the legends that a Waldgeist can determine who's pure of heart. The amygdala is the catalyst in the brain that forms opinions about the information it's presented." Monroe glanced back at me. "So if yours is larger, then it's gonna be more sensitive to that kinda thing."

I rubbed my head instinctively. I cringed. The only thing I could think about was the Waldgeist they opened up to determine this brain discovery.

"Incidentally," Pete chimed in. "The amygdala is linked to the formation of the most primal emotions. But it also regulates the famous flight or fight response, too." He grinned. "That would explain why you get so emotional, more than most." His grin widened, but then he tamed it back down when Monroe gave him a curious stare.

"Flight or fight?" Monroe questioned. "Well, that sure explains a helluva lot, too." He grimaced a bit. "Too bad your fight seems to always win out."

So perhaps my reckless woge was the result of an abnormal Waldgeist brain gene. Maybe I didn't have the Grimm gene at all, as Monroe had suggested before. Sadly, that meant I still didn't know what I really was.

Dude," Monroe suddenly yelped, jarring my thoughts. His eyes grew wide as he looked up at me. "It says here you can regenerate more than just Wesen!"

"Yeah, I forgot to mention that." My eyes met Pete's briefly.

Pete tilted his head. "You didn't tell him about the leaf thing?"

Monroe looked at Pete. "What leaf thing?" He turned his focus toward me. "There's a leaf thing?"

"You still need to show us that trick," said Chloe with a curious grin.

"Chloe knows about the leaf thing, too?" Monroe scowled slightly.

"Yeah," I rocked on my heels as I told Monroe and Rosalee about Pete's experiment. "It seems I really do have a green thumb after all."

"Dude," Monroe drawled out. "And you didn't say anything?" He turned back to Pete. "Why didn't _you_ say anything?"

"Sorry, buddy." Pete colored slightly. "So many things have transpired in the last few days that it's hard to remember what I've mentioned recently."

"Does the book say what it does to a Waldgeist when they use that… ability?" I asked Monroe, directing the focus off Pete. He hadn't mentioned it because he and I both knew what else happened that night, which was probably why subconsciously I hadn't discussed it, either.

Monroe moved his finger down the page. "Doesn't say. It just mentions how the regeneration works. The Waldgeist is able to, umm, trigger their frontal lobe in the brain to create this unique chemical compound, which is brimming with all these, you know, restorative properties that have yet to be recreated." He looked at the front of the book. "Well, at least back in 1903 they couldn't recreate them. Anyway, the compound intricately travels through the glandular system where it's secreted through the hands as a green, luminous mist." Monroe looked up. "So your hands sweat out a fountain of youth, so to speak."

"Lovely imagery there, Monroe," I replied.

Monroe went back to reading. "There are recounts from scrolls dating back to the Middle Ages in Europe of villagers praying to the Waldgeist to visit and bless their crops with prosperity. The Waldgeist was said to walk through and run their hands over the soil, bringing forth great harvests. In turn the villagers would…" Monroe cleared his throat. "Well, this is disturbing. The villagers would offer sacrifice to the Waldgeist to ensure they would return the next harvesting season." Monroe made a sour face as he twisted the book, looking at it from another angle. "There's, umm, pictures, which are very accurately drawn, and apparently these guys took a creative hand with their sacrifices. What kinda knife would you use to do _that_?" he muttered as he squinted.

"Well, if they were using their abilities back then for crops, then maybe it's not harmful." I paused. "Except for the sacrifices that went on." My stomach knotted at the thought.

Pete shook his head. "Née, it's still not wise. Just because that one book paints a picture that Waldgeists were using their abilities back in the day, doesn't mean it couldn't have adverse effects. I work with compounds all day long that we're only learning the long-term effects of."

"Well, can't we all see it used just one time?" Chloe asked. "There's no proof that it will hurt anything, either." Chloe's curiosity was outweighing her motherly caution. That was a first. "Many of us have abilities we use that are outside the established norm."

Monroe nodded. "If Ziegevolk can use their pheromones to pick up women, with toad breath I might add, then Renée oughta be able to, you know, bring good things to life with hers."

Rosalee went to the back room and returned with a dried out leaf in her hands. "It's a bay leaf," she explained as she walked over and handed it to me. "It's small so…" she trailed off, then glanced over at Pete, who was pressing his lips together, seemingly not on board with doing this.

I held my breath as all eyes locked on me. "Well, here it goes." I closed my eyes as I held the leaf in my hands. I thought hard about it being green and alive. The gasps were a bit distracting, but when I opened my eyes I was surrounded by my friends and a fresh bay leaf in my open palm.

Monroe picked up the leaf, holding it to his nose. "Whoa…"

"Ta-da!" I replied, biting back my beaming grin.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

By the next hour, the five of us finished up at the spice shop. With the work we'd accomplished Rosalee expected to be able to have customers in by tomorrow.

"You guys have just been so wonderful to do this," she said. "I don't think I would've been able to do it all without you."

"Well, it was the least we could do after all your help," I replied.

"Definitely our pleasure, man," added Monroe.

"Speak for yourself," muttered Chloe. I gripped her arm tightly. "Glad we could assist," she said a bit louder.

We said our goodbyes and headed outside into the cool, night air.

"You coming with me, or with Née?" Pete asked Chloe as he opened the driver's side door.

"I'm still going shopping, because Renée _promised_ we would," she replied dryly.

"Okay." He shrugged. "Well, I'm heading back and going to bed. Have fun." Pete hopped into the rental car and drove off.

I reached for Monroe while Chloe tapped her foot at me.

"Hey. You two go on and shop. I'll catch up with you tomorrow morning." He gave me a swift kiss. "Surprises tomorrow, don't forget." His genuine smile had me grinning.

Chloe reached for my shoulder as she stepped forward. "Okay, so now it's almost nine. Where are we going to go shopping this late at night on a Sunday?"

"I have an idea where there's a boutique we can visit," I replied with a grin. I reached for my phone.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

"You sure you don't mind?" I asked Sandra again as she opened the doors of the boutique.

"No, it's fine. Glad I could help!" she replied as Chloe and I walked into Sandra's boutique.

Chloe was already smiling from ear to ear as her fingers glided over a few dresses on the far wall. "And I can have any dress I want?"

I turned to Sandra, and she nodded. "Any dress. On the house," Sandra replied as her squirrel features came out.

Chloe responded in kind and her nose twitched wildly. She quickly retracted. "Oh, this is gonna be fun!" her smile widened at the words. "Look at this one, Renée!" she gasped, pulling out a baby blue, sleeveless dress. She reached for a few more from the rack, carting them off to the dressing room.

"Thank you for doing this," I said to Sandra once Chloe had closed the door. "I feel awful calling this late at night."

"Don't be silly." She waved her hand. "I live close by to the shop, so it was no big deal, and it's not like it was midnight or anything."

"She'll probably wind up buying something, too," I said with a grin. "She loves to shop."

"Then I should be the one thanking you instead," Sandra grinned back.

Chloe was in and out of the dressing room as she and Sandra talked styles, colors, and everything else Chloe adored discussing. She'd found someone who could appreciate her love of clothes. Occasionally she'd ask my opinion, and I'd nod. The rest of the time she and Sandra were chatting nonstop. I smiled at the union.

An hour later, Chloe had a free dress and two new ones, along with a scarf, a clutch, and two necklaces. Sandra was all smiles and so was Chloe. I thanked Sandra again as we said goodbye.

"It was nice meeting you," Sandra said to Chloe before we left. She pointed to me. "You have a good friend there."

"Renée is a great friend to have," she replied. "I don't know what I'd do without her." That coming from Chloe was as high praise as one could get.

I helped my BFF with her purchases as we put them in the back seat of my car.

"That Sandra more than made up for spilling the beans to that Eisbiber," Chloe said with a grin. "I didn't think I'd like her, but she really surprised me." Chloe glanced in the back seat of my car. "She really knows her stuff. Some of those dresses are just to die for."

"Sandra is wonderful," I replied as I sat down in the driver's seat. "She really didn't mean to cause any trouble."

"You never know with a Nussesser. Some of them are nice, while others just like to gossip for the fun of it."

"Well, Sandra is not the latter," I told her. "I really do trust her, even after her slip up."

"I know you do." Chloe patted my arm like she was refraining from finishing that sentence. "This was a fun shopping trip."

"See? I told you we'd go to a boutique today," I grinned a bit smugly.

"So, Renée made good on a promise… for once." She shot me a teasing grin as she buckled her seat belt. "Maybe this is the first sign of the apocalypse."

"Oh, don't talk like that," I chided. "With the things I've found out recently, I figure that's the next thing to happen."

* * *

A/N: Long chapter, Whew!

Back to Grimm story mode from "The Thing With Feathers." My little OC characters changed that up a bit, since Pete and Rosalee are the ones that take over with helping Nick with the Unbezahlbar. Monroe still chimes in, though. (:

So Pete might become a story regular if he gets the job in Portland. Ooh... Aah...

Oh, Hugues Nuages. That Zitherist guy gets around, doesn't he? Rosalee has her chance to gush all over about him this way. LOL!

Rosalee now knows about Renée's Waldgeist abilities, and we got a bit of science about her abilities. (I had fun researching that part.)

Chloe met Sandra yay!

On a side note. I think (think?) I may have actually finished writing the rest of this story! YAY! Now, just editing myself before I send it to my outside editor for reviews. In process of sending Miss Editor 5 more chapters for review, so give me a bit of time for more chapters.

If you get bored, drop me a line. Comments keep me motivated. Even a small note means a lot. Thanks as always for reading and I hope you're enjoying this story. We still have a few big twists and turns, so like I said in my last story, stay with me, trust the characters, and have faith in the story.

STAY TUNED! (:


	84. Chapter 84

**Chapter 84**

"You have your entire set of luggage downstairs?"

"Yes."

"You took everything out of the bathroom upstairs?"

"Yes."

"You remembered…"

"Renée, I'm good!" Chloe piped up as her teeth clicked a few times. "I have my tickets, my luggage, and everything else. I know how to pack." She shook her head. "Why don't you go upstairs and nag Pete for a while."

"I'm not nagging," I replied as I crossed my arms. "I just want to make sure you don't forget anything."

"I know how you get." She pointed to the large pile of bags and luggage on the floor. "I got it all here without your help, and I'll get it all back."

"Okay, fine," I said with a nod. "I know you have everything." I looked up at the staircase. "Maybe it wouldn't hurt to check on Pete, though."

"You might want to make sure he doesn't have a Fuchsbau stuffed in one of his suitcases."

I laughed. "I'm sure they won't let him on the plane with a carry-on like that."

I climbed the stairs and knocked on the open guest room door as Pete was folding a t-shirt. "Hey. How's it going up here?" I asked while leaning against the doorframe.

"Almost finished," Pete replied as he laid the shirt in his suitcase. "And my luggage doesn't contain a Fuchsbau," he added with a slight scowl.

"You heard her, huh?"

His ears elongated. "Of course I did."

"Of course." I nodded with a small grin. "So when are you coming back to visit her?"

Pete retracted then said, "I might be back in May, permanently."

I moved forward, picking up his tie and laid it on top of his shirt. "So, you're really gonna move here?"

He nodded. "If I get the job, which it looks like I have a pretty good shot at getting from how the HR department talked. I had two interviews while I was here." Those must have been his 'errands' he'd referred to. "Since I was in town anyway, the company that I'd been in contact with made time to interview me."

"Well, you know you can stay here until you get settled."

"That would be nice, actually," said Pete as he zipped up his suitcase. "I hate hotels."

"I remember," I whispered as I grinned at him. "Let me help you with that one."

"Thanks, Née. And I'm sorry about…" He touched his lip quickly. "You know."

I shook my head. "Water under the bridge. I'm glad you came to help. It seems you've found some things here in Portland that were worth the trip."

Pete smiled while reaching for his other bag. "Yeah, I really did."

We walked downstairs, and I set Pete's luggage down next to Chloe's. "You sure you don't want me to follow you guys to the airport?" I asked. "I really don't mind."

"Nah." Chloe shook her head quickly. "After what you told me about your last airport experience, let's not risk it."

"Hopefully there won't be a repeat occurrence when I go back home again," I chuckled lightly, but internally I cringed at the memory.

Chloe placed her hand on my shoulder. "I may hire security to escort you next time." With her, she probably wasn't joking.

I held my best friend for a few moments. "I wish you didn't have to go yet."

"If I didn't have non-refundable reservations in Florida that I've already missed part of, I'd just stay here. But the beach is calling my name."

I nodded and glanced at my watch. "You guys gotta get going." I turned and hugged Pete. "Thanks for everything."

"Anytime, Née." He looked into my eyes. "I mean that."

I helped my bunny pals with their luggage as we walked out to the rental car. "Have a safe flight and call me once you're home, okay?"

Chloe pulled me off to the side as I closed the trunk. "Renée, I don't care how many thousands of miles away I am. If anything happens, you tell me about it. I can't handle another dump of crazy in one sitting, regardless of the amount of alcohol you try to pump into me. Got it?"

I nodded slowly. "I just don't want to upset you."

"And I don't want to think you're hunky dory when you aren't," she scolded. "I'd rather you tell me, even if it's awful. Okay?"

"Okay. Let's hope there's nothing to tell."

"Now that's an answer I like." Chloe gave me her model smile and I hugged her tightly once more. "I love you, Renée. Try to be safe and I'll see you back home soon."

"Three long weeks," I groaned as I let her go.

"May will be here sooner than you know."

"Thank you for being here for me when I needed you most. I love you."

"That's what Wesen under the spell of a Waldgeist are for," she said with a smirk.

I laughed. "You're too strong-willed for that to be the case."

"Yeah. You're probably right about that."

Pete rolled down the window. "Uh, I hate to cut things short, but we have a plane to catch."

"Go on." I motioned Chloe toward the car. "Call me this afternoon."

"I will."

"The universe won't keep us apart for long!" I reminded her as she waved reluctantly and shut the car door.

I walked in the house once the rental car was out of view. A heavy sigh left me. May was still too far away.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Later on that morning I ate half a tart; my treat for all the insanity this weekend. A half wasn't as many calories, so I didn't feel too guilty. I more than worked the others off with Bikram. I took some time to get work caught up, but I was distracted. This morning I'd awoken to more crazy dreams about Nick. They were getting stranger every night. Last night Nick and I were rescuing Seltenvogel from their cages and after they were freed, he'd taken me in his arms as we passionately made out while Unbezahlbars fell from the sky. I didn't even want to try to interpret that one.

My cell rang as I was tidying up the house.

Picking it up from the coffee table, I smiled as I said, "Good Morning, Monroe."

"Hey," Monroe replied. "Are you ready to come over?"

"Am I supposed to be ready? You didn't give me specifics, remember."

Monroe chuckled. "Hmm… Guess I forgot about that."

I straightened the pillows on the couch. "It's okay. Give me just a little bit and I'll come over. Or, if it'll save time, come over here while I get ready."

"No. I need you to come over here," Monroe replied quickly. "Part of the surprise."

"Okay. I'll be there in about an hour, maybe? Will that be all right?"

"Yeah, but the sooner the better. Can't wait to see you," his reply beamed through the phone. "Oh, and wear comfortable shoes."

"Comfortable shoes?"

"Yeah, we're gonna be walking around."

"Will do. See you soon." My heart skipped as I hung up the phone. I showered quickly. What did he have planned today?

My hunter green skirt paired nicely with the black cardigan sweater I'd bought on my last shopping trip with Chloe. A black belt tied the ensemble together. The weather forecast was still chilly today, well for me anyway, but it also called for some sunshine. With that news, I was celebrating already. If the sun came out, the red highlights in my chestnut brown hair would look great with the green. I slipped on my watch, tucked my Waldgeist necklace under the sweater, and added my green onyx necklace. I did a once over in the full-length mirror in my bedroom. It was important to look good today, and I'd managed to look better than good.

Scanning the bottom of my closet, I searched for comfortable shoes. Okay, so no heels. I had a pair of flats that were comfortable, but they weren't as cute. I picked them up anyway. They were better than sneakers, since those definitely wouldn't go with my outfit, and I didn't want to change into a pair of jeans. I took some extra time with my hair and makeup. After applying a little lipstick, I smiled at my reflection. Perfect!

Grabbing my bag, keys, and Monroe's sweater gift, I headed to my car.

I sang along to U2's 'Beautiful Day' along the drive to Monroe's. The sun beamed down, warming my face. It was too cold to roll down the window, but I did it anyway. The sun felt so good. Today needed to be good. Was it too much to ask for one good day?

Monroe was on his porch as I pulled into the driveway. He wasn't alone. His cello was with him. As I opened my car door he began to play. Was that… Cyndi Lauper? Oh, yes it was. His bow and skillful fingers took on a wonderful rendition of 'Time After Time' as I walked toward him and up the few steps. He was grinning wide as he played the song like he'd known it forever, which was doubtful, but adorable nonetheless.

"_If you're lost you can look and you will find me,__  
__Time after time.__  
__If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting,__  
__Time after time…"_

I sang the words as he continued. He caught me every time I fell, and I was falling right now… Monroe sure knew the way to my heart. Standing behind him, I set his gift down and placed my hands on both his shoulders, the muscles flexing as his bowing arm rocked back and forth over the strings. While his fingers moved along the fingerboard, my fingers moved up his neck and into his hair. The notes hit a staccato as I scratched his scalp lightly then trailed down under his collar.

"You make it awfully difficult to play," he murmured.

"Keep going," I bent down and whispered in his ear, kissing it gently. The bow jerked as my lips dipped down and touched his neck, but Monroe was able to find the melody again. I loved it when he played. God, that cello did something to me. As the song ended, he pulled the bow slowly along the final note, letting it soften out. He tilted his head, and I met his mouth with such intensity. His sexy lips let mine go as I was left a bit breathless.

"That was beautiful, Monroe," I said in awe, reaching down for his gift and tucking it under my arm. "I thought you just played classical," I added with a wink.

"Well, you said this song represented me, so I, umm, did a little searching for the music." He stood as he held on to the cello. "I kinda like the words, but that part about the second hand unwinding… Well, technically, I mean, depending on the timepiece, the second hand will…" Monroe paused as he cleared his throat. "Umm, happy Lunar-versary, Renée."

"Thank you for this." I chuckled lightly, reaching for his hair again. "That cello of yours is like an aphrodisiac."

"I could tell." A flicker of red hit his eyes. "Why don't we go inside and keep celebrating."

As the door opened, Monroe carried his cello while kissing me deeply. We continued our kiss, maneuvering toward the living room like an awkward waltz. He finally let me go once we were near the couch.

"Now that's the way to celebrate," I exclaimed as I caught my breath.

"I'll say." He grinned and then walked toward the fireplace to properly put his instrument away. When he turned back, his eyes rested on the gift box under my arm as he twitched slightly.

"Oh, this is for you." I held out the gift box in front of him.

"Red?" he asked hesitantly as he looked it over.

"It's your favorite color," I replied. "Isn't it?"

His brows knotted as he twitched again. "Well, yeah, but after, umm… You know."

"Just don't tie me up with the ribbon, and we'll be okay," I replied with a smirk.

His eyes glinted with a lusty red. "I'll tie you up with something else if you prefer."

I shook my head. "Umm, how about you just open your gift instead?" I wasn't ready to discuss bondage today. No, we were going to have a good day.

Monroe took the box as he sat down on the couch. He slowly removed the red ribbon and tore through the paper, discarding it on the cushion beside him.

Opening the box, his lips curved into a smile as he looked up at me. "Is this the same one?"

"If it isn't, it's really close."

He lifted out the gray sweater and checked the tag. "Yeah, man. This is the same one." He held up the sweater to reveal the equally gray Vince label. "Where did you find this?"

"Just got lucky." I moved toward the couch, folding up the wrapping paper and sliding the ribbon inside as I sat beside him. "Sweaters can be replaced, but you can't." I leaned in and kissed him. "Happy lunar-versary."

"Thank you, Hun. You know, I'd kinda missed that sweater."

I bit my lip slightly. "So have I."

He grinned at me as he set the box and wrapping paper on the coffee table. "Okay. It's your turn."

"My turn?" I tilted my head. "There's more?"

"Hell yeah." Monroe stood up, helping me off the couch. "Close your eyes." I hesitated and then he added, "Come on, just do it."

"Okay." I closed my eyes as he led me toward his workroom.

"All right, open them up."

On the table set my cuckoo clock in all its splendor. It was just as beautiful as when Monroe had fixed it before. The wood was freshly polished, and the little bird was back on top of its perch. Monroe walked over and slowly moved the minute hand until the bird tweeted out his sweet song.

"Oh, Monroe. Thank you!" I turned quickly toward him. "Thank you so much!" I dabbed at my eyes, trying not to cry all over the place.

"See, I told you it would be fine," he said as he wrapped his arms around my waist. "Fortunately, all the parts were attainable, and the casing didn't crack or anything when it fell. I had to get on the horn to Flagstaff, Reno, Seattle, and Sacramento to find everything, so it was a joint effort. There were a few kinks with one of the bellows, but I got it straightened out." Monroe continued to talk mechanics while I held him tight. I may not have understood it, but it was fixed, and I was more than glad.

"So how much do I owe you, Mr. Clockmaker?" I asked with a coy grin as I brushed off my tears. "I didn't bring any money."

"Oh, I can think of a few ways." Leaning me against the front door, Monroe kissed me with fervor. He fiddled with the belt and zipper on my skirt and worked off my sweater while I undid his vest and shirt. Clothes fell to the ground as he trailed his lips down my shoulder. "It's gone. You were right." He traced the spot where the Blutbad had assaulted me.

"Yeah, gone," I murmured, reaching my hands into his hair. "Now kiss me and don't worry about it."

We moved toward the living room. The clocks on the mantel rattled as I pushed him up against the fireplace, taking control. I kissed down his chest, breathing in his Old Spice as I moved down.

"Come back up here," he coaxed as I dipped down further.

I looked up into his eyes, batting my eyelashes. "But Mr. Clockmaker, I need to repay you."

"I'll get my money's worth, don't you worry." He lifted me up, thumbs brushing against my cheeks as he took my face in his hands. He paused, just staring at me. The sunlight flickered through the window, bringing out the golden hues in his brown eyes and the dusting of freckles across his face. "Are you okay?"

I tried to take the question in, but I didn't want to. "I'm great. Kiss me some more and I'll be even better."

"In a minute." His eyes searched my brain. "Why didn't you tell me about you and Pete?"

"Me and…?" I froze. Fuck…

"Yeah." Monroe's hands slid down to my shoulders. "You two do this experiment thing, which was a bit incredible I might add, but you didn't mention any of it. Why?"

My breath let out slowly as my muscles relaxed. Okay, so he meant the leaf trick.

"Monroe, it was the night before all hell broke loose with that sergeant, and then Jack came, and then I almost lost you. That leaf went to the back burner of my mind. It didn't help that I had Pete chiding me about not messing with the balance of things, and then I used my ability on you, which was a bit disconcerting. But I would've done anything that night to…" I trailed off before the tears returned. "I wasn't trying to hide anything from you. I mean that."

Monroe nodded slowly. "You know, it just felt awkward with Pete and Chloe knowing, and I had no clue, man."

"That wasn't my intent." I brushed back a tear that escaped.

"You sure you're all right?"

"As well as one can be with the events of last week, or last month, or…"

"Is there anything else you need to share?"

"I must confess…" I grinned at him. "I need your lips on mine."

"Be serious with me. Trust me."

"Monroe, I…"

I wanted to tell him all the gaps… tell him about the stupid dreams… the reckless things I'd done that he wasn't aware of… And that I loved him. I wanted to tell him that more than anything. But I couldn't. I needed him, but dumping all that on him would just be upsetting. No, today needed to be a good day.

"If there was anything else that needed to be shared, I would," I replied instead, placing my hands on top of his arms. "Right now I'm just taking life day by day. But if you weren't here to do it with me, then… Well, I never want to know what that would be like."

Monroe pulled me in close. His kiss hit me hard as he took over. Feathery kisses fluttered down my chin to my neck, and I responded with a soft sigh. He didn't nip or bite, but his mouth became forceful and demanding as it took hold of mine again. I held on to his shoulders as he kissed toward my collarbone, down my chest.

"We need to take this elsewhere," Monroe insisted. He scooped me up in his arms, hovering. "No, we'll just do it here." He laid me on the couch. "It's been too long to wait," Monroe grunted out.

"It's only been a couple of days," I replied between kisses.

"Too long."

His mouth trailed down my shoulder, but then he paused as he glanced over at the coffee table. Flicking the wrapping paper with his two fingers, it dropped behind the table.

"Really?" I asked.

Monroe grinned. "Better safe than sorry, man."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

An hour later I was still trying to catch my breath. "You're amazing," I sighed out breathlessly as I leaned back on the couch, closing my eyes.

"Eh, I just do what I can," Monroe humbly replied, leaning over to kiss my forehead. "Now I'm going to find my clothes and make us some coffee."

"This has been a good lunar-versary."

"Oh, there's more than this." His grin was infectious as he wiggled his eyebrows.

I lifted myself up, rescuing my panties off the lamp by the couch. The bra was around here somewhere. Monroe dressed quickly while I retrieved my sweater and skirt by the front door. While Monroe was in the kitchen, I hunted down the bra from under the coffee table, picking up the wrapping paper while I was down there. I shook my head. Either his routine was still off, or that color was more trouble than it was worth.

I went into the bathroom, trying to fix my hair and makeup. I managed to put myself back together as I stared at my reflection. Right after some of the greatest sex ever with Monroe, I'd wondered if Nick was home yet. What the hell was wrong with me?

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

"I think that this Peruvian dark roast is my new favorite," Monroe said as he took a long sip. "Thanks for buying these, Hun."

"Glad you like it." I took another sip as we sat on the couch together.

"After this, we'll need to get going before it gets any later." He tapped his watch.

"Where are we going?"

"Surprises," he said. "You should know that by now."

I set my mug down. "Can I get a hint?"

He put a finger to his chin, then replied, "Darkness then water."

I tilted my head and repeated, "Darkness then water?" That man became more cryptic every day.

"Uh-huh." He shot me a sly grin as he stood. "So we better get going."

Monroe and I finished our coffee and headed out. He stopped me on the porch, giving me another kiss. "You still trust me, right?"

"Of course. Why?"

"Just checking." Monroe grinned again, taking my hand as he led me down the porch steps. He opened the passenger side of the VW and I got in. He closed the door and moved to the driver's side. Once his door was closed, he turned toward me. "Open the glove box," he instructed.

"Okay." I opened it up and stuck my hand inside, pulling out a blindfold. "Darkness?" I asked as I looked over at him.

Monroe nodded. "Put it on."

"Are we going to an Eyes Wide Shut party?" I joked.

"Would you go if we were?"

I shook my head at him. "Not my kind of party."

"It's not like that," Monroe said with a chuckle. "Besides, you wear masks to those, not blindfolds."

I gave him a sideways glance. "And why do you know that?"

"I watch movies." He shrugged. "Now put the blindfold on."

I bit lightly at my lower lip as I held it in my hands.

"Go on," he coaxed. "Trust me."

Slowly, I lifted the blindfold to my head, slipping it on. A light breeze hit my face. No doubt he was waving his hand in front of me to make sure I couldn't see.

"I can't see, but I can feel you testing me."

"Really?" He replied with a smirk in his voice. "Can you feel this?" His fingers drew across my collarbone.

"Yes," I replied, running my tongue over my lower lip.

"What about this?" The heat of his breath teased my ear. He kissed my lobe gently.

"I definitely feel that."

"Too bad I'm on a time schedule," Monroe replied, his voice a bit deeper. "But I'll remember that reaction for later, I'll tell ya that."

"So, do you normally blindfold women?" I teasingly asked.

"No. First time," he quickly replied. The warble in his voice was slight, but it was there. Did he just lie?

"You sure you haven't?" I probed a bit.

"Uh, pretty sure." The warble was worse.

"Pretty sure… you have?" I questioned further.

There was a slight pause before he finally admitted, "Perhaps a time before… or maybe two."

Oh, really? Hmm…

"What about the whole rope thing?" I asked. He'd seemed awfully good at that, too. "Was that really your first time?"

Another pause. "I said it was, didn't I?" His voice was a bit deeper, but the tone was still warbled. Holy crap.

"You may have said it, but I don't think it was all that true." I smirked whether he saw it or not.

His hand on my thigh jolted me. "You're asking a lot of questions." His voice was darker, like I was uncovering more than he wanted me to.

"So, am I to take your avoidance of said question as acknowledgement that you've done it before?" I asked pointedly.

He paused again as his hand moved up further, hitching my breath. "Let's say, hypothetically, I had. Would it be a bad thing?" The words rolled off his tongue as smooth as silk.

"Hypothetically, it would've been deceitful." Inside a wave of panic hit. There was no 'hypothetically' to it.

"Deceitful or just a white lie?"

"More like a red one," I replied, smirking again. Who knew a blindfold could work as a lie detector? Perhaps Mr. Monroe was better at lying than I gave him credit for.

"Okay, now I can honestly say I hadn't used red before that night."

No warble. At least that was the truth. So, how many women had he tied up before? Five? Fifty? A horrible image of Monroe in a dungeon with shackled women lining the walls passed through my mind. My cheeks burned at his manipulation. Oh, sly wolf.

"So, was that color just for my benefit?"

"Wasn't much of a benefit, obviously," he mumbled. "I'm still sorry about that, you know." That sounded honest, too.

"You should've told me the truth." I shook my head. "Don't chide me on withholding things if you're doing it, too," I reprimanded. "That doesn't earn trust."

"If I'd told you I'd done it before, would you've still tried it?" he asked openly, fingers dipping under the elastic of my panties. He made it hard to think by doing that.

"You didn't give me the opportunity to make that decision." That we were both trying something new was one thing. But was this something he did regularly? His fingers traced back down my thigh. God, he was making it difficult to keep my thoughts. "So, I don't know..."

He was silent for a minute. "You aren't mad, are you?" His voice had a bit of a worried edge, but his fingers were telling me something completely different. "What are you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking..." I reached for his hand, but he wiggled it free, creeping further up my skirt again. I turned toward him, even though I couldn't see. "That's cheating. I can't determine how I feel with you doing that."

"Well, I can tell how _this_ makes you feel," he replied with a devilish grin in his voice. If I could see right now, he'd have tapped his nose to emphasize his point.

"What else are you hiding?" I asked. "Or do I want to know?"

Fortunately, his fingers vanished from my thigh, and my breath evened out. It was only briefly until they were bushing my hair away from my neck.

"Umm, probably don't want to know," he candidly replied. "I never claimed to be a saint, you know?" He chuckled, but I wasn't laughing. "The same could be asked of you." His fingers traced along my ear and down my throat. He was turning the tables. Dangit. "Anything else you wanna share?"

"Aren't we going to be late for something?" I managed to ask, unable to refrain from biting my lip as his fingers continued.

"Now who's avoiding questions?" His fingers circled my throat a few times as my breath quickened once more.

I gripped the edge of the car seat. "I just don't want us to be late to, umm, whatever surprise you have." We both had secrets we were keeping. Best to quit while we were ahead.

"Okay, okay," he relented, removing his fingers. "But only because you have a point." The air changed ever so slightly. He was moving his hand in front of me again, but slower this time.

"I still feel that."

"Man, you're good," he chuckled. "I want try this again, though." He hesitated, but then added, "If you'll let me." His voice tinged on sarcastic. The blindfold really enhanced that inflection.

"Let you?" I chuckled. "You want permission?"

"Well, yeah," he replied. "I mean, you don't have to let me, but it would be nice." His hand cupped my chin. "Or I could make you, if that would be better?"

I sucked in my breath. Now that tone was all Mr. Wolf… Holy moly!

Monroe laughed as he removed his hand. "Well, that sure answers my question real quick," he said in a satisfied tone.

"No it doesn't," I replied in a hurry.

"The nose _always_ knows." His smugness permeated like a scent of its own.

"Now don't you… That doesn't…" Crap, he had me flustered and he knew it. "Darn Scorpios." My face flushed hot. "Let's just go." I leaned back in the car seat.

Monroe laughed again, but he didn't reply, thank goodness. I focused on the cricket chirps of the VW as he backed the car up. My heart was beating fast as I tried to slow my breathing. Make me? Maybe he knew more than I realized. Stupid books. Stupid thoughts. No, I wasn't going to ponder what all he knew or had done before. It was going to be a good day. Monroe turned on his radio as a jazz tune played softly. The slow rhythm was soothing as my heart and my breath relaxed in time with its beat.

As Monroe drove, I mentally took note of the turns. Right on Southwest Naito Parkway, then from the sound of it, we were getting on the Morrison Bridge, next was a sharp left, which meant we were merging onto the I-84. Too bad I still didn't know my way around out of the city. Back home I could play this game easily. On my dad's road trips I'd close my eyes and try to figure out where we were going. Most always I could map it out in my head. From the turns to certain sounds, I knew Kentucky pretty well. Oregon would take some time to learn, but this was a good start.

The drive remained smooth for the next twenty minutes, so we must have still been on I-84. The interstate was sixty miles per hour, and Monroe usually dropped back five miles. Doing the math quickly, we were roughly eighteen miles out of Portland already. I rummaged through my mental filing cabinet, trying to place the cities outside Portland. There was Gresham and Troutdale. Those two we must have passed already. After Troutdale what came next? There were a few clusters of parks if my memory was correct, but what was the city?

I tried to listen through the music. The VW engine was distracting. The cricket chirps overshadowed the other sounds. I cracked the window a bit, taking in the smell. Wet wood and dead leaves. It reminded me of the scent of the Ohio River. The low horn of a barge caught my ears.

"Is the Columbia River on our left?" I asked.

Monroe's hand ran up my leg. "Yeah."

"Is there a barge going past?"

"Umm…" He paused. "Looks like it."

"Okay, just checking."

"Are you trying to figure out where we're going?" His voice held a hint of amusement.

"Maybe," I replied with a grin. "I know there are parks out this way, but I haven't had time to memorize the maps of Oregon yet."

"Well, good. Just relax, and don't worry about where we're going."

The sound of the radio increased. I closed the window. Fine, I'd be good and remain surprised. I reclined back in the seat, taking in the music. Michael Bublé was singing his version of 'Moondance.' I softly hummed along as I relaxed a bit more.

"Okay, take off your blindfold," said Monroe as I sat up in my seat.

I removed the blindfold to a large sign that read, 'Whispering Pines.' I turned toward Monroe, but Nick was sitting in the driver's seat.

"We're here," Nick said with a toothy grin.

"Where's Monroe? Why are you here?"

Nick reached into his pocket, pulling out a ring box. "Renée, you're the one…" He looked into my eyes, his hand poised and ready to open the box. "Renée…"

"Renée…" A hand was pulling at my elbow. It was still dark. "Dude, did you fall asleep?"

"Must have. Sorry." What the hell was I dreaming? Nick was becoming the highlight of every one. "Can I take this off now?"

"Yeah. I told you, we're here."

Removing my blindfold, I tried to focus in spite of the bright light. The sun was fully out, nearly blinding me. I shielded my eyes with my hand as I squinted until they adjusted. We were surrounded by trees, and as I opened the car door, the sound of rushing water behind us piqued my curiosity. Monroe was already by the door, holding out his hand. I took it as he helped me out of the car.

"So where is here?" I asked, taking in my surroundings.

"Follow me," he replied. "You'll see here in a minute."

I continued to hold his hand as we walked across the road toward a house, maybe? But what was behind the house was got my attention. It was a large waterfall.

I pointed up. "That is beautiful," I said as we edged further. The sign caught my eye. 'Multnomah Falls.' "So this must be the water part of the surprise, right?"

He nodded and replied, "Multnomah Falls is the second largest year-round waterfall in the United States." Monroe flashed me his trademark smile. "But we're gonna get real close here shortly."

"I can't wait."

Monroe and I followed a long trail up the ridge as the large waterfall came closer into view.

"Now according to the Native American folklore, Multnomah Falls was created to win the heart of a young princess who wanted a hidden place to bathe. There are other legends that a princess jumped from the cliffs as a sacrifice to save her tribe from illness." Monroe scratched at his head. "Not sure if was the same princess though."

"That's sweet and yet kind of sad, too," I replied.

"You know, we'll just go with the first one then."

Regardless of the legends, the waterfall was both breathtaking and majestic. Water cascaded down from behind a large, arched bridge, while a second tier of the waterfall spilled out underneath it.

I pointed up. "Can we get up there, too?"

Monroe nodded. "Yeah, that's where we're headed. That's the Benson Bridge. From there you can see the top of the waterfall and, like, really feel its power, man. Let's keep moving."

On and on we climbed as I breathed in the scents of the woods while serenity wrapped its loving arms around me. All my burdens seemed to melt into the void as the ambient sound of the waterfall washed them all away.

Monroe caught me grinning. "You seem to really like this place." He pointed at his eyes. "You're kinda showing it off a bit."

"Was I?" I blinked a few times. "I wish I knew when it was happening."

"It's just the surge of emotion, man."

"This place is definitely giving me a surge. I'm pretty content right now."

Monroe took my hand. "We're almost to the bridge, let's go."

As we stepped along the bridge, the din of the waterfall was almost deafening. Light sprays of water hit our faces, as the falls plunged down in front of us. Below, the water crashed amongst the rocks into the foggy mist surrounding the surface, like it was fading right into a cloud. Small rainbows of light reflected off the water from the sunshine. Nature's beauty at its finest. I was in awe.

Monroe and I stopped in the center just holding each other. He tried to say something, but the water was too loud to hear. I gestured at my ear and shook my head. Monroe let out a breath and motioned me forward as we stepped away from the waterfall, the sound becoming fainter as we sauntered toward the patch of trees past the clearing. We were alone and shielded from the other tourists in this small space.

"Can you hear me now?" he yelled out.

"Yeah, you're fine, and you don't have to yell."

"Okay. Good." He took my hands in his. "So what I wanted to say back there… Like this waterfall, err, _that_ waterfall." He hooked his thumb behind him. "Umm, we've been flowing down a rocky path with everything that's gone on, but, you know, it's still been a wonderful thing because we're like that water, pushing forward together, and, you know, with that being said I…"

Monroe's cell rang in his pocket.

"With that being said…" he repeated while slightly rolling his eyes. "Give me just a second." He pulled out his phone, looked down, and let out a huff. "It's Nick."

"Well, answer it," I urged. "It might be important."

He hesitated, but then pressed the button. "You know, man, I think you need to look up the definition of the word vacation… Whoa, what's wrong? Everything go okay with the Seltenvogel? Please tell me she's leaving that Klaus… What? Oh, and so when you…? And then she…? Oh man." Monroe was silent a moment as his eyes did all the talking; squinting, then widening as his head bobbed up and down to whatever Nick was telling him.

"He didn't get hurt did he?" I asked quickly. Thoughts of anything happening to Nick stabbed at my heart.

"No, umm, not like what you're thinking," he replied to me. "Yeah I'm still here… Well, don't you think that Hank might be better suited to handle this kinda…? What? She actually used the words, 'keeping things from her'? Oh, dude…" He looked up at me as his brow furrowed, pressing his fingers against his forehead. "Yeah. No, I understand… Meet me at my place. We'll talk, have a few beers. It'll be okay, Nick." He shoved his phone back in his pocket and shook his head.

"What happened? Is he okay?"

"Well, he kinda… His, umm, proposal didn't go _exactly_ as planned last night."

"She said no?"

"Yeah, well, it kinda seems that way."

"Oh…" So he wasn't engaged. Juliette dumped him. Oh, wow...

"He's kinda… Well, he needs to talk and drink, and not necessarily in that order. We gotta head back."

"You want me to go with you guys?" I wanted to see Nick, console him, and maybe hold him. I shook the thoughts out. What was I thinking?

"No, man. I don't think that's such a good idea right now. I think he needs some guy talk, you know? Just some dudes and some beers. No females."

I nodded slowly. "Well, what did you want to say before he called?" Monroe was gonna say it. I knew it. The crazy 'L' word. But was that what I wanted? Was it safe for us to be this close? What did I want really? I loved him, but…

His lips tightened into a thin line, and then he blew out a breath. "Man, it's just…" He shook his head.

"What is it?"

He reached for my arms. "I'll tell you later. I'm sorry our belated lunar-versary has to be cut short like this. Not exactly the way I planned this day going." He sighed. "We didn't even get to do the lunch thing. Oh man…"

"It's okay. This place is beautiful though." I took another glance behind me. "Maybe we can come back sometime?"

He gave a short nod. "Yeah. I'd like that. Up there at the top is amazing." He pointed. "It's over six-hundred feet above everything, and a view as far as the eye can see."

I turned back to face him. "Thank you for this. I really mean it."

"Let's go," mumbled Monroe. "It'll take at least a half hour to get back anyway."

We drove back in silence. Well, outward silence. From the look on his face, Monroe's clock gears where whirling in his brain while mine was overloaded with thoughts about Nick. I looked off toward the Columbia River as my mind wandered. What had happened with the proposal? Why would Juliette decline? Why was I sort of happy about it?

* * *

A/N: Okay, another longer chapter... So Chloe and Pete headed home. Monroe's blindfold uncovered a few more truths than Renée was expecting. Multnomah Falls has been featured in Grimm back in "Lonelyhearts." I put a picture link on my profile in case you need a refresher. And yes, the crazy 'L' word is still getting halted, this time due to Nick's declined proposal.

A new buddy of mine on YouTube named "Chef Hayden" has graciously made me a little video of his cello rendition of "Time After Time" to add to my story. The link is also on my profile. Check it out! He is a jack of all trades with videos of everything from movie reviews to cooking lessons. Thank you, Hayden! You rock my socks!

So the good news is this story is done! 120 chapters total! Double from the last one, yet again. We have 36 chapters left and so much more story to tell.

Gonna post more, but be kind and pause to give me some comments. (;


	85. Chapter 85

**Chapter 85**

Nick's Toyota was parked in front of my car at Monroe's house when we pulled up. Nick was sitting on the porch, picking at one of the branches from the tree by the steps. He stood as we pulled into the driveway. For someone who'd just had his heart broken, he looked good.

He smiled faintly as we got out of the VW and walked toward him.

"Hey man," said Monroe, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I've got beer in the fridge."

Nick looked over at me. "Is she staying?" he asked with a bit of hesitation.

"Nah, I think she's heading home," Monroe replied.

"Or I could stay for a minute or two," I piped up quickly.

I didn't want to leave him. I wanted to… Oh, God. The thoughts in my brain swirled like a pinwheel. I held them back, stashing them away in my mental filing cabinets quickly. But Nick looked so good. If I could just sit next to him for a while, brush my hand through his hair. No, what was I thinking? No… I ripped my eyes away from his and stared at the wolf on the door; anything to not stare at him and begin drooling like an idiot.

"Well, I did want to talk about the Klaustreich." Nick let out an exaggerated sigh. "I know you said you knew one, but man, this guy was…"

"Yeah, they're real assholes, man," Monroe replied with a scoff. "Between the one I knew and the one Renée dealt with they're…"

"Wait, Renée had to deal with a Klaustreich before?" Nick moved between me and the stained glass as I was tracing the scenery with my eyes. "What does that mean?" He looked directly at me. "You didn't mention anything like that. Hell, I don't recall us even getting to Klaustreichs in the database."

I chewed at my lip. "It's not something I like to talk about," I replied softly.

"Why don't we go inside?" Monroe motioned us both to the door. "I'll grab those beers."

I sat down on the couch as Nick sat next to me. "So what happened with the one you knew?" Nick asked as I shifted back in my seat away from him as far as I could. My fingers twisted into my skirt. He looked good. Why would I possibly think anything like that? Nick put a hand on my arm and I jumped. "So are you gonna answer me?"

"It was in college. He was a friend, but he wanted more than that."

"Wanted to date you? What?"

"Wanted more…" I repeated. Nick's face was still blank. "He tried to force himself on me, Nick," I finally added.

"Oh…" he nodded slowly. "So what happened?"

"We were drunk, and he tried to hold me down. Once I managed to get him off me, he attacked, so I knocked him out with a lamp."

"But you didn't get hurt though, right?"

"I got… scratched."

"Scratched? Try more like a Siegfried and Roy moment," Monroe chimed in, setting a few bottles of beer down on the coffee table and took one for himself as he sat beside Nick. "Which one of those dudes got mauled anyway? I forget."

"I guess that's one way to put it," I replied bitterly, "and it was Roy."

"Sorry," Monroe spoke out quickly as he took a drink from his bottle. "I just meant it was pretty brutal from what she'd described."

Nick's eyes grew wide as he turned my way. "So he attacked you while he had a woge?"

I nodded. "Slashed through my side to the point where the doctors didn't think they'd get it all stitched up."

"Yeah, I got to see what those claws were capable of."

Nick reclined further on the couch, propping his arm up on the back close to me. I stood, trying to refrain from more crazy thoughts, as I walked toward the fireplace.

"If I hadn't gotten away when I did, it would've been worse than that." I leaned against the fireplace, holding my arms. "He killed his next girlfriend a year later, so I was lucky."

"You didn't mention that part," said Monroe as he stiffened. A quick flash of red hit his eyes. "Hey, you okay, Hun?" Monroe asked.

"Yeah," I replied, flustered over my stupid thoughts. "It's just not easy talking about that night."

I crossed the room and sat in the swivel chair, closer to Monroe; anything to be further away from Nick. Monroe silently held out a beer in front of me, but I waved it off, promptly declining. Alcohol was the last thing I needed. No, I couldn't risk any of these thoughts seeping out. Completely sober was the way to go.

Nick went on to tell us about the guy who was sliced in two in the car, and the shattering of the Unbezahlbar. He turned back to me. "But you should've told me about what happened to you." He had that toothy grin when he said it. "If you'd taken the time to mention your Klaustreich beforehand, then I might've known what I was dealing with out there."

"_My_ Klaustreich?" Nick's arrogance cleared the silly notions from my head. "Okay, first of all, he wasn't _my_ anything. Secondly, my horror stories aren't research projects. It was an awful event that I don't go telling everyone about, all right?"

Nick continued to grin. "Well it still might've helped…"

"Why are you grinning about it?" I asked point blank. "You know, you're just too... happy." I shook my head as I scowled.

"Too happy? Is that supposed to be an insult?" Nick laughed and he flashed that damn cute, toothy grin for spite. "And I'm not always happy."

"There. You're doing it right now. Even when you're discussing work or Wesen or... whatever, you have that silly, little grin on your face." I let out a short sigh as Nick crossed his arms and his grin widened.

"Renée, I don't think he's happy about what happened to you or anything," Monroe reasoned, then looked to Nick. "Right?"

He shrugged off the question. "If we're on the topic of pointing out faults, you're secretive, and it's unnecessary," Nick told me. "We're all on the same team here."

I sat up straight. "I don't have to tell you everything." Like how that grin of his was driving me giddy. I pushed on my anger to override the other thoughts.

"No, but if you let your guard down, maybe you wouldn't hate me as much."

"Let my guard down?" The anger was helping, so I let it out freely. "It's in my blood to hate you. You heard what my grandmother said."

"Okay. You know, no one really hates anyone," Monroe said with a gesture of his hands. "That's, like, such a strong word, you know? Let's not get into something like that, okay?"

"Renée you're half Grimm, too," continued Nick as he took a swig of beer. "So maybe you just need to let that side win out."

"Oh, if only it were that easy, Mister," I snapped back. "But things are more complicated than that."

"Maybe they don't have to be," countered Nick with a smirk.

I stood quickly. The heat from the conversation and from the waves of crazy thoughts passing though my brain had me so flustered. "I really ought to go."

Monroe stood as well. "Yeah, maybe so. Nick and I have some other things to discuss."

We crossed the room toward the door. "Thank you for today." I glanced over at my clock. "And for fixing this," I added.

"Give me a moment and I'll pack it up for you." Monroe reached for some bubble wrap, taking care as he slid the cuckoo into a cardboard box. He carefully lifted it, handing it over to me. "Just drive slowly and it ought to be fine."

I gave a short nod as I walked back to the hall, focusing on my boyfriend instead of Nick on the couch. "Thank you, Monroe."

He kissed me on the cheek. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry," I replied as he opened the front door for me. "Call me later when he's gone."

"Sure. Be safe going home."

I walked slowly to my car and took time to buckle up my clock in the passenger seat. As I closed my car door, I sighed loudly. I was losing my marbles. That had to be it. All the stress from everything had finally sent my brain on a one way trip to Looneytown.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

My cuckoo set back on its shelf, a constant reminder that Monroe loved me. I looked at all the work he'd put into my clock, and of course he'd pushed real clients off to the side to work on it, no doubt. The damage that had to be repaired must have taken hours upon hours. And how did I repay that love? I sat in his living room and had thoughts about his friend Nick, and they were anything but innocent.

I took an early yoga class to clear my head. It didn't help. Nothing helped. My head was filled with Nick. He had clawed inside my brain and I couldn't get him out. I felt trapped between what I wanted and what I had. I hummed on the walk back.

"_I'm living in between,__  
__To hours that could count.__  
__Between the future and the past,__  
__Between feelings that won't last,__  
__In a game that I cannot win…_

_Living in between,__  
__The road that I chose to take.__  
__Desires to run away.__  
__Promises unmade.__  
__Words I dare not say…"_

Once I arrived home from yoga, I just kept thinking about Monroe and Nick. What were they talking about? Maybe I should go back over there. I wanted to see Nick again already. I missed him, and now that he wasn't engaged or heck, maybe wasn't even with Juliette anymore… Maybe… What? Maybe what, Renée? I smacked my forehead. Liking Nick Burkhardt? Just the thought was insane. I had Monroe, and I was happy. I was… Dammit, what the hell was wrong with me?

I went to the kitchen to thaw out the other half of my tart from this morning. Perhaps next time I went to the store I'd buy some Rocky Road ice cream. Until then, these tarts would have to do.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

"Feelings for the Grimm, are you fucking serious?" Chloe exclaimed after I told her all the crazy dreams and the stupid notions I'd been feeling lately. "Have you lost your mind?"

"I know. It's crazy, right?" I munched on my thawed out apple tart. "I usually can't stand him, but now he's worked his way into my brain."

"You can't do this. I just started liking Monroe. That man practically died saving me and you. And he's probably come close the other times he was saving your ass from your reckless stupidity."

"You're right. I'm a terrible person."

"You agreed too easily," replied Chloe suspiciously. "Are you testing me? You know I hate it when you do that. I already told you I'm okay with Monroe now. You have my blessing to be with him, all right? Is that what you needed to hear?"

"I'm not testing you, Chloe. I really think I'm attracted to Nick. It's horrible I know, but I still love Monroe, too. What's wrong with me?"

"Maybe that Daemonfeuer hit your head a little too hard." She let out a chuckle. "Don't create drama for yourself. You love Monroe and he loves you, and someday you two will grow up and actually say it. Until then leave the Grimm alone."

"It's like Nick is plastered in my brain. I can't get him out. He's a Gemini, Chloe."

"Oh, now I _know_ you're trying to test me."

"No, he really is."

"What you and Monroe have goes beyond astrology, right?"

"Yeah. But isn't it ironic that he's a Gemini? That means something, right?"

"It means you're gonna have to try harder than that if that's your reasoning," she smirked through the phone. "Doesn't he live with his girlfriend?"

"Yeah, but…"

"But what? Are you a home wrecker? Renée, you're better than that."

"No, I'm not a home wrecker." I didn't have to be. Juliette had already wrecked their happy home by saying no to marrying him. "Besides, Nick probably wouldn't want me anyway."

"It's not about whether or not he would want you; it's about doing what's right. Renée don't you dare screw this up. One of us deserves to be in a happy relationship, and since my love life is in a body bag, you've got to get your head on straight and be fucking happy. You hear me?"

"But that's the thing. I'm not doubting my happiness with Monroe. I love him as much, if not more than ever."

"Then what the hell is your problem, girl?"

"I don't know. That's why I need you. Nick is just… Mmm." I bit my lip. "There's something about him and it's getting worse. Just today I was sitting next to him, and I had to fight with myself not to reach for him."

"Reach for him and do what exactly?"

My cheeks flushed just thinking about it. "I don't know."

"Oh, you know exactly what kinds of things you wanted to do. How badly are you blushing right now?"

I touched my cheeks. "Pretty bad." That direct link to my brain was all-knowing.

"This is because of that stupid 'L' word isn't it? Just because Monroe hasn't said it, doesn't mean he won't. Is it freaking you out that bad?"

"No. That's not it. If it hadn't been for Nick calling at the waterfall, he would've said it. But then he keeps stopping when things interrupt him."

"So, what's wrong with _your_ mouth?"

"Because he seems to have some plan in mind and I…"

"You're such a girl," Chloe laughed.

"No, I'm just trying to do this one right."

"Do it right, yeah. Because wanting to get horizontal with the Grimm is doing it right."

Chloe was blunt, but she was always honest. This wasn't right. But it felt so right. Ugh…

"I don't want to do _that_." Not yet anyway.

"Sure you don't," she scoffed. "Okay. You called me for my opinion, and here it is." Chloe paused for effect. "Nix your feelings for Nick. End of discussion."

That was easier said than done.

"I'll work on nixing them. Thanks, Chloe. I love you."

"See how easy that is to say?" she laughed. "Now instead of pining over the Grimm, go tell your Blutbad that, and try not to sabotage anything else. I love you too much for you to go fuck things up. Don't think I won't be back on a plane to that horrid town and personally slap some sense into you."

"No. You're going to Florida. Enjoy the warm weather. I'll figure out something."

"See that you do. I'll check in on you."

"You enjoy your vacation. I'll be fine. I promise."

"There's that 'P' word again. You and promises don't mix."

"Apparently, neither do 'L' words either."

"Quit being a southern belle and tell him if you want it that badly."

"No, I'll wait. With all this stuff going on, maybe we ought to find out who's making plans for me here in Portland first. I already told you what happened to Monroe with the Reapers sending messages to Nick. If anything happens to Monroe because of me… Well, I couldn't live with myself."

"You said he took care of those Reapers at the airport. He's capable of defending himself, Renée."

"But I don't want to be responsible for someone sending me a message like that."

"Are you gonna dump him?"

"No! God, no…"

"Then you need to figure this out. You're good at presentations. Present this to yourself and make your choice. Just be safe, and try to find some common sense. While you're doing that, I'm going to take a nap and get used to Eastern Standard Time again."

"I'm glad you got home okay. Get some rest."

Once we hung up, I dipped my head down. I knew what Chloe would say, but I needed to tell someone what I was feeling. Most of the time she was better than Jiminy Cricket when it came to advice. But even Pinocchio ignored Jiminy sometimes, right? I ignored Chloe more often than I probably should've. Like this time. It was crazy. I was crazy. Our Lady of Peace here I come…

* * *

A/N: Renée's having trouble keeping her hands to herself, huh? Poor Chloe thinks her BFF is trying to sabotage her happiness. Can Renée nix these feelings? Guess we'll see...


	86. Chapter 86

**Chapter 86**

I rolled over in bed, dragging my fingers along Monroe's shoulders. He turned, but instead it wasn't Monroe. Nick smiled as his blue-green eyes bored themselves into me. I abruptly sat up in bed. David Cassidy stood at the footboard, playing his guitar. Both David and Nick began to sing.

"_I'm sleeping, and right in the middle of a good dream.__  
__Like, all at once I wake up from something that keeps knocking at my brain.__  
__Before I go insane, I hold my pillow to my head,__  
__And spring up in my bed, screaming out the words I dread.__  
__I think I love you,__  
__So what am I so afraid of?__  
__I'm afraid that I'm not sure of,__  
__A love there is no cure for…"_

Nick reached for my hand as David continued to play. "I think I love you, Renée."

My eyes popped open. Dammit, not another one. Blue-green eyes. Always those darn, blue-green eyes! I turned to Monroe, who was deep asleep beside me. I adored him in every way imaginable, so why was Nick Burkhardt continuing to haunt my dreams?

I crept out of bed and slowly descended down the steps, humming that damn song as I went. My shoulder bag was by my jacket on the cedar chest. I pulled out my cell phone, thumbing through my contact list until Nick's number appeared. I'd dialed Nick's number halfway through at least five times yesterday after Nick had left Monroe's house, and I'd come back over. What was wrong with me?

Monroe knew something was wrong, too. He'd kept asking me if I was feeling well as my thoughts raced back to Nick most of the evening. I'd feigned stress, but how long would that excuse last?

"Hey, uh, why are you awake?" Monroe's voice came from behind me, scaring me out of my wits.

"Just couldn't sleep," I replied quickly, dropping my phone into my bag before I turned around. "Thought I'd come downstairs and read," I lied, flashing him a smile.

"It's three in the morning," he said with a yawn, combing his fingers through his wild, curly hair and giving me a curious stare. "Want me to make you some warm milk?" Monroe was so sweet and wonderful. Why was Nick clouding my thoughts? I closed my eyes to focus myself. It wasn't helping.

"So… Is that a no to the warm milk?" Monroe asked, and my eyes popped open. Right, he was still standing in front of me.

"Uh, yeah. That would be nice, but I can make it on my own. You get some rest. Six o'clock will be here before you know it." I walked by and kissed him on the cheek as I went into the kitchen.

Monroe was right behind me. "You aren't fine at all," he said by my ear as he put his hands on my shoulders. I jumped again at his touch. "Give me a little credit here."

"My brain is just overloaded with... stuff," I half lied. Nick stuff was more accurate.

Monroe rubbed my shoulders while I pulled the milk out of the fridge. Warm milk was disgusting. I made a face at the thought as I directed my attention to the stove and grabbed a saucepan.

"It's been a crazy month, that's for sure." Monroe sighed as I poured the milk and turned on a burner. "You wanna talk about it?"

No, I didn't.

I turned to face him, looking into his knowledgeable, deep brown eyes. Those were the eyes I really loved. "Death, Reapers, Exes, Dragons, Waschbars, Waldgeists, Blutbaden. I'm starting to feel like a broken record. I'm working on it," I said softly. "Pity parties aren't fun events."

He hugged me. "You've been through quite a bit, Hun. It's okay."

Oh, Monroe's embrace was what I wanted. A light scent of Old Spice was still clinging to his skin from earlier today. I breathed it in, and for a second the blue-green eyes vanished from my brain. The second ended as Nick continued to penetrate my thoughts. While I tried hard to nix the feelings, I was losing the battle. I thought about how much I loved Monroe and how wonderful his embrace was, but Nick dangled on the forefront of my mind.

"Uh, milk?" Monroe's voice perked up, and I quickly let him go.

With a gasp, I reached for the saucepan with the milk frying inside and turned off the burner before it scorched the pan. "Dammit!" I scowled. I didn't curse outwardly very often, but lately the sentence enhancers had become more and more necessary in my opinion. I hated cooking. Could you cry over burned milk, too?

"Let me take care of this," said Monroe as he eyeballed his saucepan with a grimace. A trip to Williams-Sonoma was in my future for a replacement, for sure.

"I'm so sorry." I sighed as he hurriedly moved around the kitchen to fix my mess.

"It's fine. I can salvage the pan… I think," he muttered as he took it over to the sink. While he ran the water, I leaned on his back, resting my head against him.

"Let's just skip the milk," I said as I hugged him. "I'll find a way to sleep." I just needed to sleep without Nick in my brain.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Nick was in the spotlight of my dreams the rest of the night. Groggily, I awoke and managed to get to work on time.

My computer cursor blinked at me as I stared off into space. I couldn't concentrate. He was gnawing at my brain. I pulled out my phone, gazing at his name and phone number. Lurid thoughts cascaded through my mind as I shook my head and put my phone away. After my last training, I left early and stopped at Home Depot. I bought bags of dirt and lots of flowers and plants. I needed to keep busy.

Once home, I lugged my purchases to my back yard, so I could start to work. I'd take all my frustrations out this way. Planting was peaceful, and I needed Zen. Lots and lots of Nick, err, Zen. Lots of Zen.

I shook my head as I went inside to change clothes. I searched for my gardening gloves and my tools. For the next few hours I was planting lavender mixed with yellow daisies and asters mixed with moonshine yarrow. Yellows and purples lined my flower beds. Maybe I could plant some bushes near the fence? Or perhaps a nice shrub by the Nick, err, brick.

"Dammit!" I scowled loudly. It wasn't helping. Why, why, why?

Dire Straits played out in my pocket, startling me. Nick… My heart fluttered nervously. I hadn't heard that song in quite a while. I took off my gloves and reached for my phone. The song continued to play as I held the phone in my hands. Finally, with trembling fingers, I pressed the button.

"Hello?"

"Renée. Hi, hey," said Nick, sounding cheerier than I'd expected. "How are you?"

"I'm good," I replied as dourly as I could. "Wasn't expecting to hear from you after our talk yesterday."

"Yeah, about that... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound insensitive or anything. I'm just trying to learn as much as I can here."

"It's fine." My voice softened. I couldn't stay mad at him. "It's just not easy to discuss. I shouldn't have been so rude," I added. "So, umm, how are you with everything else? Monroe kind of told me about the proposal. I hope you aren't mad, but we were together when you called yesterday and…"

"I figured you knew. I'm all right, considering. Yeah…" He sat silent for a moment. We both did.

"Umm, did you need something?" I finally asked.

"Need something? Oh, umm… Well, if you're free, there are some things I'd like to show you… at the trailer, I mean."

"Yeah, but it might be a little bit." I stood from my flowerbed, dusting myself off. "I was planting in my back yard."

"Planting? It's not the right time of year is it?"

I laughed. "I have no clue. At home it would be, but maybe it's a waste of time. I just needed flowers and spring." And Nick. I needed Nick, too.

"Oh. Well, come by, and I'll see you soon?"

"See you soon, Nick."

I turned off my phone as my heart rate increased. I didn't need to be anywhere alone with Nick. Maybe I shouldn't go? These stupid dreams, feelings, and notions had me in knots… But he wanted to see me, and I really wanted to see him.

I showered and dressed a little nicer than I normally would. Grabbing my laptop and scanner, I headed to my car. Wow, I was giddy. No, it was silly to feel like this. It was Nick. Dumb, ol' Nick. That was all. I pushed on my practiced calm. Maybe it would help with the feelings, too.

Incubus' 'Stellar' played on in my head as I drove toward the trailer.

"_How do you do it, make me feel like I do?__  
__How do you do it? It's better than I ever knew…"_

These feelings for Nick were becoming more than just silly notions. But why? Why was he causing such a wave of... Oh, God. Was it really more than just feelings? No, no, no…

I shook my head. Instead of humming, I played 'Lil' Red Riding Hood' from my MP3 Player. I needed Mr. Wolf for a while, without the teeth this time.

* * *

A/N: More Nick dreams. I found it amusing that I had this scene of warm milk written and then when Grimm returned, Monroe mentioned warm milk to Nick. LOL! Guess I'm on the same wavelength with the writers.

So Renée is going to see Nick... Hmm? He seems a bit happy to want to see her, too...


	87. Chapter 87

**Chapter 87**

I pulled up next to Nick's Toyota and turned off the ignition. As I walked up to the trailer, I wiped my hands on my skirt. Why was I so nervous? This whole thing was silly. I knocked on the trailer door.

"It's open," Nick called out.

I opened the door and he grinned as I walked in. He was seated at the desk, eating a pie out of the pan with his right hand while thumbing through a leather book with his left. He looked good. Even better than yesterday. Dammit.

"There you are!" he said. "I was wondering if you were going to stand me up."

"I told you I was out in the yard. I had to get cleaned up," I replied while hovering by the door.

"Well, come in and don't just stand there," he said, motioning to the trailer bed.

I sucked in my breath and marched over to the bed, setting my jacket and bags down. "So what are we reading today?" I moved over toward Nick and perched on the edge of the desk, trying to read upside down. I'd focus on the book, and not the guy.

"Would you like a slice of apple pie?" he asked, staring up at me while his fork hovered over the pan.

"Oh, no. I've had enough apples lately." I thought about the tarts again in my freezer. The freezer idea hadn't been clever enough. Too bad I was still addicted to eating those darn things. "Where did you get a pie? Not another Eisbiber gift, I hope."

"No, thank goodness for that, although I did get a cherry pie from Bud after all." He told me briefly about Bud fixing his front door that night after he'd stopped by to fix my porch light earlier that day. Juliette got quite a surprise with that one, since she was the only one home when he came by. It was already dark, so she thought he was a burglar. "But this pie had nothing to do with Beavers." Nick grinned, taking another bite. "There was a pot luck thing at the precinct today and someone saved this for me. The two slices at lunch got me through a few reports, and it was so delicious, I decided to take it with me, which is good since I won't have time for dinner tonight."

"You haven't been home yet? What about Juliette?" I asked, eyeing him. Wouldn't she be upset if he came straight here from work? I sure would be.

"Juliette knows I'm going to be working late. She just doesn't know what kind of work that is." He gave me a cute, toothy grin. "I'll save her a slice or two of this pie to make it up to her."

"So, you still haven't told me what you wanted to show me." I put a finger on the book.

"Show you?" he asked with upturned eyes of blue-green staring back at me. The green swirled around the iris like green grass against a blue sky.

"Uh, yeah," I stammered, while gathering my thoughts. "You called and asked me over to, uh, show me something… remember?"

"Oh." Nick replied quickly. "Right. Well, I wanted to, uh, just work on the database. Or, umm, maybe we could clean out one of these cabinets over here." He swiveled the desk chair, opening the bottom cabinet. "There's all kinda of things in here that should probably be categorized, or chronicled… or something."

"Oh." The thoughts were returning. He looked really good. I bit my lip in spite of myself. My brain needed an off button. "Sure, we could do that."

He turned back, smiling wide as he stood. "Good. Let's get started." He walked closer as I tensed, studying my face. "Did you do something different with your hair?"

"No." I shook my head. "Just pinned it back."

"Okay. Yeah, that must be it 'cause you look really good today… nice. You look…" He closed his eyes briefly. "Your hair looks nice."

"Thanks," I replied. He liked my hair. I refrained from sighing dreamily.

We talked more about Klaustreichs while we worked on the cabinet. I was building brick walls around my thoughts in my mind, trying to concentrate on the task at hand instead of Nick. He kept talking, the smoothness of his voice breaking through. We moved from one topic to the next, and then on to what happened while Nick was out of town.

"Monroe mentioned you ran into that Blutbad again. I checked his record today. You won't have to worry about him being back on the streets," Nick chuckled. "We've been looking for him for a while."

"Did he murder anyone?" I wouldn't doubt there were a string of dead bodies he was responsible for.

"No, but do you think he might've?"

I shrugged as I looked up. "He was killing something in the woods the first time we ran across him. Maybe it was just a deer."

"Monroe said he had you up against the wall outside the bar."

I nodded. "Yeah, he was threatening to do the same thing as the Klaustreich."

Nick's eyes shot up as big as saucers. "What, he tried to rape you? Monroe didn't tell me that."

"Because Monroe doesn't know. He knew the guy was, umm, worked up, but…" I glanced down at the cabinet. "It was a bad night." I looked back up at him. "Thankfully Monroe was there to save the day, or the guy probably would have succeeded."

Nick's face darkened. "Maybe I need to pay him another visit in his cell." He clenched his jaw.

"No, don't do that, and please don't mention it to Monroe. He just thinks he was threatening me."

Nick nodded, although it didn't seem like he was going to listen. "I may check on a few missing person's files just to make sure this guy isn't connected to any of them."

"Wouldn't be surprised if he was," I mumbled as I pulled out another journal hidden in the back of the cabinet. "How many more of these are there?"

Nick shrugged. "I keep finding new ones, too. Aunt Marie went to great lengths to hide them. Not sure why. Maybe they shouldn't be out?"

I stood and sat down in the chair. "That's your call, not mine." I set the new book down in front of me. "The more books we find, the longer this database is gonna be."

While I thumbed through the book, Nick placed his hands on my shoulders and my heart stopped in my chest, mental walls crumbling. I shouldn't be here. It was too much being alone with him. I rose quickly as he released me. I moved over to the trailer bed with the book in tow.

"Everything all right with you?" he asked. "Why did you move?"

"I'm good. Great actually. Just needed to switch seats. The bed is more comfortable… Umm, I mean, not that I need to be in your bed, but…"

Nick sat close beside me. "You're acting a bit jittery."

"Sorry. Must have had too much caffeine today."

Nick's cell rang. Saved by the bell, thank God. He pulled it from his pocket as a small sigh escaped him.

"It's Juliette. I'll just be a minute." He held the phone to his ear and stood up. "Hey…"

I sat on the edge of the trailer bed as Nick talked to Juliette on the phone. He began pacing a little as he listened.

"Right… I know it's going to be late, but... Yeah, well, sometimes I have to... Just think of it as me protecting you from the things that go bump in the night... No, that was a joke; you can't be upset about that..."

I hummed 'You Belong With Me,' modifying the words as I listened to the conversation.

_"You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset.__  
__She's going off about something that you said.__  
__She doesn't get your humor like I do._

_I'm in the trailer; it's a typical Tuesday night.__  
__We're working on the kind of research she doesn't like.__  
__And she'll never know these fairy tale stories like I do._

_If you could see that I'm the one who understands you.__  
__Been here all along so why can't you see?__  
__You belong with me..."_

Why the hell was I thinking of that song? Taylor Swift? Ugh… I stopped humming and watched Nick. He was really getting hit hard by Juliette tonight. If I took the phone from him, I could give Juliette a few choice words of my own. No… That wouldn't help. Instead, I went back to the section on Skalenzahne. This book had some interesting history. Since Monroe and I never got a chance to talk about them, it was high time I learned on my own. Nick was finally able to hang up the phone, and I glanced back at him.

He ran his hand through his gorgeous, dark bangs as he huffed out a sigh. "Sorry about that," he muttered while shaking his head.

"You all right?"

"Huh?" He glanced up. "Yeah. Yeah, just fine."

"So, I thought she was okay with your late night work."

He looked down as a soft sigh came off those tempting lips. "Usually she is, but since the proposal... I don't know."

Oh, I could do something to put a smile on that face. I pushed back my thoughts again.

"Well, she's the one that said, 'no,'" I replied, "so she has no right to complain when you come home late."

"Yeah, if only I could tell _her_ that," he chuckled, but his face was still twisted into a sour expression.

I tried not to think about his face, but that sulky pout and those lips… I shook my head and went back to the book, humming some more as I read.

"_And you've got a smile that could light up this whole town.__  
__I haven't seen it in a while, since she brought you down.__  
__You say you're fine I know you better than that.__  
__Hey, Whatcha doing with a girl like that?"_

"So, what are you reading up on?" Nick asked, halting my humming as he came toward me.

"Skalenzahne," I said and angled the book where he could see as he sat back down. "I saw one in the cages next to Monroe in that Lowen's gladiator barn. Monroe had to tell me what he was, but now I'm getting a better idea."

We went over the info together. "So is it an alligator or a crocodile-like creature?" Nick asked.

"Umm, both." He was making it hard to concentrate. His head was close near mine, and his hair smelled really good, like strawberries. Why did his hair smell like that?

"How can it be both?"

"I don't know. Our ancestors used both terms. But generally crocodiles are more… What kind of shampoo do you use?" I asked. I had to know.

He let out a light laugh. "Oh, I grabbed Juliette's shampoo today instead of mine. It's some fruity... who knows." He grinned at me. "But, yeah, you probably smell that."

I nodded. "I guess so." No matter, it smelled good on him.

"So, umm, crocodiles are more, what?" His hand brushed against mine as he tapped the drawing on the page. He looked up at me, eyes locked with my own.

"More… aggressive," I breathed out.

"Then I'd go with that one." Nick's eyes lingered as he rested his hand on top of mine briefly. My breath caught in my throat. He stood, shaking his head, and moved toward the pile of books on his desk. "So, how much did you know about Seltenvogels before what happened this weekend?" he asked, leafing through the pages until he found the section. He reached over, taking another forkful of pie.

I found my breath. "The plural is just Seltenvogel, and I knew of them," I replied, "but I've never seen one before," I added.

Nick shook his head as he swallowed. "Sometimes it's... it's like you guys know all these creatures and I'm having to ask all these questions."

"Well, you've only been doing this half a year, Nick. You can't compare your knowledge to those that have grown up in this world. Heck, I can't even compare my knowledge to someone like Chloe or Monroe, who's lived it. If it wasn't for Chloe, I'd still be calling Wesen 'those funny animal looking things.'"

"There's just so much to learn," he said while dropping the book down.

"And that's why we're in this trailer. We're _both_ learning." I was learning that Nick Burkhardt was making my heart beat in ways it really shouldn't. "Besides, out of all of us, you're the only one who's ever seen a Seltenvogel. And you saved her life by removing her Unbezahlbar. So there's something, right?"

Nick gave a half-smile, and those beautiful, blue-green eyes looked at me as he chewed another bite of pie. "But if it hadn't been for Rosalee and Pete guiding me, I wouldn't have been able to do any of it."

"That just means you know your resources, and you got the answers you needed." I smiled at him. "Isn't that part of learning? Knowing your resources?"

"Yeah, when you put it that way, it makes sense."

"And now you have me…" I looked down. Oh, he could have me. I shook my head. "And even Chloe and Pete if you need them," I continued instead. Crap, I was shelling out my BFF and her brother's Wesen services without their consent. Wow, that was bad. "Tons of resources," I added, beaming at him.

"You're in an awfully good mood today." He raised an eyebrow while taking another bite of his pie.

"I don't know what you mean," I replied while biting back my wide smile. Oh, he knew what I was feeling. He was too clever.

"You're being nice to me all of a sudden."

"Well, it's like you said... We're on the same team, so..."

Nick smirked. "So, we're friends now?"

"Yeah, of course." I nodded, trying not to say more. "Why shouldn't we be?"

"Your grandmother's information on Grimms and Waldgeists hating one another is enough of a good reason, as you pointed out yesterday."

"But maybe you're right." I set the book aside. "Maybe I need to let my Grimm side 'win out,' as you put it."

Nick narrowed his eyes at me as his fork hovered. "You think you can just shut off something like that?"

"Yeah, actually I think I can." I must have had the dopiest grin on my face at that moment.

Nick laughed, "Okay. I'm glad actually. I want us to get along." Nick took another large bite of pie, set his fork down, and stood quickly. As he went to reach for another book, he hit the pie plate, knocking it to the ground. Apple pie splattered onto the floor in a gooey mess. "Dammit, there goes dinner," he grumbled. "At least I got half of it, but I'll have to find something else to bribe Juliette with."

"Here, let me help you," I offered, getting up from the trailer bed. "Do you have anything to clean with in here?"

"Uh, well, not really."

"Don't worry. I have something in my car."

I went outside. The cool air blew across my flushed face. I could just leave now. Get in the car and go home. I took a few slow breaths as I rummaged through the trunk. No, I couldn't leave. I could handle this.

I returned with a garbage bag and some paper towels.

"You had those in your car?"

"Yeah, it's something my dad always suggested you keep in the trunk."

"For a Royal operative, he was pretty resourceful."

I bent down by the desk. "I don't think keeping a roll of Bounty in the trunk was part of his mission."

Nick moved forward, holding out the garbage bag. "Any more ideas about the alleged secret code in his letter?"

"No." I shook my head. "I have a feeling it means something, but I'm not sure what yet, although there are many things that represent the number two-hundred and ten."

"I still think if he took the time to hide a letter, then he would've just put what needed to be said in it."

I shrugged as I threw away another paper towel full of pie. "I still feel there's more. Once I go home, I'll do more digging. So what kind of operative is Juliette?" I asked with a grin. "She's a real sharp shooter. You sure you know her as well as you think you do?"

"If she were hiding something I think I'd know by now. I've lived with her for a few years."

"I lived with my dad all my life, and look what happened with that."

Nick tightened his grip on the garbage bag. "I'm trained to notice these things. It's different."

Did he notice how being this close to him was making me giddy?

"Well, between the two of you, no one stands a chance as long as there's a gun around," I replied with a quick chuckle.

"Let's not talk about Juliette anymore," he said. "I want to talk about you." Nick cleared his throat. "Your accuracy. I want to talk about your accuracy."

"Maybe it's a Waldgeist thing. My uncle said my biological dad was good at archery. When my dad taught me to use a shotgun, I was pretty accurate, too."

"Well, it was something I'd never seen before from a novice handgun user. If we practiced more you might be able to hit the 'X' every time. I could reserve the gun range again." He was looking at me like in one of my many dreams. "Just for us."

"Maybe we could do that." If we practiced more, then I might do more than just shoot. "Well, if Monroe wouldn't be too upset."

"Yeah," he scowled slightly. "Monroe."

I focused on the goop on the floor as I blocked out the rest of my thoughts. We worked swiftly to finish cleaning. It needed some real cleaner, but at least the majority of the mess was gone. As I tried to stand, Nick and I bumped heads.

"Ow, sorry!" I grabbed my head as I fell back. "Are you okay?"

Nick laughed, rubbing his temple. "Yeah. We can't occupy the same space."

"No… Umm…" The heat returned to my cheeks. "That would be difficult."

Nick stood and held out his hand. "Let me help you up."

"No, I can get up," I replied quickly, using the desk for support. If I touched him I wouldn't want to stop. I managed to get back on my feet, dusting my hands off on my skirt. I reached for the garbage bag, tying a knot in the top. "I'll dispose of this when I leave."

"Why won't you take my help?" he asked.

"I didn't need it," I simply replied as I walked back toward the trailer bed.

Nick stood between me and the bed. "Something is different about you." His grin widened. "I told you I'm trained to notice these things."

"Notice what?" I asked. My face was flushing hot again, and I couldn't control it.

"I think you know." His eyes twinkled a bit. "I'm very observant."

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying hard not to bite my lip instead. I crossed my arms and replied, "I have no clue what you're referring to."

"Or you just don't want to admit it."

I opened my mouth to reply, but I couldn't. Maybe he meant something else, and I was being paranoid again. Nick didn't budge as he waited for me to respond. Instead, I rolled my eyes slightly, turned around, and walked to the other side of the trailer, facing the wall of books as I sat on the edge of the desk. Out of sight, out of mind. Nick put his hand on my shoulder, and my heart fluttered off into space. He was touching me again. Dear goodness! I resisted the urge to put my hand on top of his.

"So are you just going to ignore me since I'm on to your little crush?" he asked with a teasing, flirtatious tone that only increased the sexiness in his voice.

"Crush?" I shot back, not daring to turn around. Oh God! He knew, he knew, he knew! "Your detective skills are way off mark, Nick," I scoffed, keeping my attention on the shelf.

"You've been acting flustered ever since you got here. You keep blushing and smoothing down your hair whenever you talk to me. Those are pretty big tells."

Had I been smoothing down my hair? I didn't even realize it. "That's ridiculous," I replied.

He let go of my shoulder. "Then look at me and say that."

"I'm busy looking over these books," I responded calmly. I couldn't keep my poker face right now. He'd see right through me if I tried to lie and tell him I wasn't feeling anything. "Are you keeping these books in order? I clearly see a few misplaced." I stood, well, I almost leaped up from the desk to fix the books, trying to breathe as I went along.

Nick was still right behind me. "There might be one or two out of place."

"Well, that messes with the order, and then the program doesn't work." I tried to sound annoyed.

"We can deal with the books later," he said, drawing his hand across my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. I bit my lip since he couldn't see.

Thank goodness his nose didn't work like Monroe's, or he'd know exactly what was on my mind. Nick turned me toward him, which I wasn't expecting. I was face to face with bold, blue eyes with those flecks of green splashed around the iris. I'd never been this close to Nick before. We were very close, and my cheeks heated up again. I caught my breath in my throat as he flashed me his toothy grin.

"Okay, what did you want to do instead of the books?" I asked as my own grin peeked out even though I tried hard to suppress it.

"I don't know, but I'm sure there's something else we can do." He reached for my arms, and I moved quickly to the other side of the desk. What was I doing? It was Nick. Was this another dream? I pinched myself. No, this wasn't a dream this time. I turned and he was still grinning. Those blue-green eyes were watching me squirm.

"Wh-Why do you keep looking at me like that?" I stammered out, trying to sound upset.

"I'm just looking at you. Is there a problem? I thought we were friends now."

I pointed at the open book lying on the desk. "Let's work on transcribing some of this German into the computer."

Nick looked down. "You mean you want to translate the German on this page that's in English?" He smirked as I pressed my lips together.

Crap, I hadn't even looked to see if it was even in German.

"Well, not that page, but I'm sure there are other pages." I hurriedly flipped through the book. "Google translate might help us. Or better yet, let's see if Monroe can translate. Let me just call him."

I couldn't stop talking. He had me all nervous. I kept going on about German as I pulled out my cell from my shoulder bag, hands shaking as I scrolled through to Monroe's number.

Nick reached for my phone before I could press the button. "We don't need to call Monroe." He set it down on the desk.

Maybe he didn't think so, but I needed him here, so I wouldn't run my hands through that dark mop of hair and... What the hell was I thinking? I moved to the other side of the desk.

Nick closed in again past the barrier the desk was providing between us. "Why do you keep backing away?" he asked.

"Because I really don't think we need to be on top of each other... I mean, not on top of... but we need…" My cheeks were burning up I was so flustered.

"See? You're doing it again." He touched my cheek which heated things elsewhere. "Why are you hiding it?"

I moved back another step. "This? This is nothing. Maybe I ought to go." I was lost in a sea of blue-green again as he inched closer. The scent of strawberries teased my nose.

"_A strawberry avalanche crash over me…"_

The words of Owl City echoed in my brain. Nick's hair was like an avalanche of that luscious scent.

"Maybe you should tell me that we're not feeling something between us."

"What?!" I blurted out. "Okay, now you're just full of yourself. I have Monroe, and you have Juliette and we're not..." The words stopped abruptly. I couldn't finish. My eyes met his.

Nick reached for my hand. "We're not… what?"

"We are..."

Nick leaned in and kissed me. His lips were like heaven and I gave in, completely dazed. His arms wrapped around me while his mouth continued to press into mine. My fingers slid into his hair, pulling him closer as he leaned me back against the desk.

It was wonderful… It was amazing… It… had to stop!

"Oh, my God," I gasped out as I broke our kiss, trying to find my breath. "We can't do this!"

Nick's face paled. "Sorry. I don't know what that was." He shook his head as he looked into my eyes. "But then again, it feels right, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does," I uttered the words before I even thought about it. Scrabbling away off the desk, I grabbed my phone. "I have to go."

I was already reaching for my purse, racing toward the door, and grasping the handle before Nick could reply. I dashed out, hands trembling as I fumbled for my keys. With a push of the button I opened the car door.

"Renée," Nick called out from the trailer as I got in and sped off.

My head was spinning as I drove home, trying to make sense of it. It was what I wanted… what I'd been dreaming about lately, and oh, wow, he felt good. So, why did I feel like I'd just robbed a bank? Fiona Apple's words sang in my brain.

"_I've been a bad bad girl.__  
__I've been careless with a delicate man.__  
__Don't you tell me to deny it.__  
__I've done wrong and I want to suffer for my sins…_

_What I need is a good defense,__  
__'Cause I'm feelin' like a criminal.__  
__And I need to be redeemed__  
__To the one I've sinned against,__  
__Because he's all I ever knew of love…"_

The guilt was overpowering! It would've been better if I was losing interest in Monroe, but that wasn't the case. I loved Monroe so very much. Maybe this was just a one-time thing. Crap, but I didn't want it to be. But then again, I did. It was stupid and it couldn't happen again.

When I got home, I took a long, cold shower. I had to scrub Nick off my skin and off my mouth. No amount of soap could get him out of my head. I leaned against the tiles. What the hell was I doing?

Once I was dry and dressed, I threw my other clothes into the washer and went to the kitchen. The apple tarts were calling my name. I placed one in the microwave. I didn't have the patience to wait for it to thaw out. I needed a sugar fix, anything to replace these feelings for Nick.

I sat on the couch, eating the tart as I stared off into space. If only the thoughts of that kiss would just go away. Yet another guy had kissed me in less than a week. I was a horrible, horrible person! Now I was up to four, only with Nick I'd reciprocated, big time. God, his lips… No, no, no.

I had a sudden urge to call him. I ought to call and apologize for running out like I did. Maybe go back... I shook the thoughts out. As if he could hear me, Dire Straits played in my shoulder bag. This whole situation had me in dire straits. I ignored my phone and turned on my TV, drowning out the ring tone music. I lay on the couch, bunching a pillow under my head and putting a second one over my face.

"You can't leave me hanging like that." A voice called out, and I turned to Nick standing in my living room.

What the fuck?

"How did you get in here?" I lifted myself quickly from the couch. Did I forget to lock the door? "Why are you…?"

He didn't let me finish before he was on top of me, fingers adeptly moving under my shirt, mouth pressed against mine, taking over.

"Don't leave me again," he murmured between kisses.

"No, I won't leave you again," I replied in a daze while sliding my hands up his back. "Never again…"

The pounding on the door knocked me awake. I removed the pillow. Nick wasn't here. An infomercial was blaring loudly on the TV. What time was it? I tried to focus on the cuckoo. Two in the morning. Who the hell was at my door? Oh, no. Maybe it really was Nick this time. But he didn't know where I lived, right?

I crossed the room and looked through the peephole. Monroe. My heart froze in my chest. I smoothed down my hair and opened the door.

"There you are!" he yelled over the TV as he came in. I stepped aside so he could pass. "Have you been here this whole time?"

"Uh, yeah." My voice warbled as I tried to breathe. "I fell asleep on the couch."

Monroe walked over and pressed the off button on my TV. "It's no wonder you didn't hear me calling. Do you always keep the TV up this loud?"

"I…" I shook my head. "I'm sorry."

"I got worried." He ran his hands through his hair as he stood, facing me. "But you're here… so… I'm glad you're okay."

"Yeah, I'm fine, Monroe. You really didn't have to come all this way."

"Of course I did." Monroe came toward me and held my arms. "Are you sure you're all right? You seem kinda tense."

"You being at the door just startled me. Sorry."

He stared into my eyes, sifting through my brain. Oh, God. Nick. Did he know? Could he tell? My chest burned like a large scarlet 'A' had been branded into me.

"Well, I won't keep you. Unless… since I'm here and all…" He grinned up at me as a hint of red passed across his eyes.

"Umm… It's late, and you've got to be up early, and so do I." I looked down as I spoke. I couldn't bear to look into his eyes any longer.

"Oh… Well, okay then," he replied in a deflated tone. "Call me after work tomorrow and maybe we can just play some catch up then, okay?"

I looked up. "Sure, sounds great." I quickly walked Monroe to the door and opened it up. "Thanks for checking on me. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Hey, wait a minute," said Monroe. "Don't I get a goodbye kiss?"

I pressed my lips, holding in my breath.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked suspiciously. "I'm getting a weird vibe off you."

"Sorry. Just out of sorts."

Monroe reached for my shoulders and leaned in. He kissed me deeply and I tried to relax. If I didn't, then he'd know everything. I wrapped my arms around his neck, taking in the Old Spice. God, I loved him. Why was Nick in my brain when I had such an amazing man on my lips?

Once he let go, I forced a big smile.

"Take care of yourself," he said. "Talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

I nodded as Monroe walked off the porch and down to his VW. I closed the door and sighed, pressing my back against the door as the tears began to flow.

What the fuck was I going to do? This was so unlike me. I wasn't a cheater. I detested cheaters. I loved Monroe so much. The guilt of all the feelings, the kiss, and the other thoughts were turning my stomach in knots. But if I felt so guilty, then why did part of me want to go back for more?

* * *

A/N: Oh boy, huh? So, my dear readers, still with me? So let's trust the story and see what happens. Gonna stop here for today and let everyone catch up. Thoughts, comments, roaring upheavals?

STAY TUNED...


	88. Chapter 88

**Chapter 88**

Dreams of Nick and me in his trailer haunted me all night. I woke up in a cold sweat while crying at least a dozen times. Hank Williams' words echoed over and over…

"_Your cheatin' heart,  
Will make you weep.  
You'll cry and cry,  
And try to sleep.  
But sleep won't come,  
The whole night through.  
Your cheatin' heart, will tell on you..."_

I looked at my phone once I got in the car to drive to work. I'd missed eleven calls. A mixture of Nick and Monroe. I had a voice mail for each call. Against my better judgment, I listened to the voicemails.

"**Monday, 9:23 p.m.: **Renée, it's Nick. Listen, I don't know what happened, and I understand why you left, but I'm sorry. I really don't know what came over me."

"**Monday, 9:45 p.m.:** Honey, I haven't heard from you today. Call me."

"**Monday, 10:36 p.m.: **Renée… Maybe we should talk about this? Call me back."

"**Monday, 10:55 p.m.:** Hey, are you all right? Well, you're not answering, so that means something must be wrong. Or you could be away from your phone. But you'd usually call if you were going to be someplace else. Hmm… Well, call me when you get this."

"**Monday, 11:17 p.m.:** I know you're upset, and I'm trying to understand what happened, but if you'd just call me back we could talk about this."

"**Monday, 11:31 p.m.:** Hey Hun, I'm, like, kinda worried about you. I mean, I really hate to drive over and find out you're just in the shower or… Well, perhaps you being in the shower might not be such a bad thing to find you in. Umm… Anyway, just call me so I know you're okay."

"**Monday, 11:56 p.m.:** I really need to talk to you… this isn't going to just go away."

"**Tuesday, 12:10 a.m**.: Okay, so it's, like, past midnight and you haven't called me. Dude, I'm getting kinda freaked out, and I know I shouldn't be, 'cause you're probably just asleep, or you forgot to turn your phone off vibrate. But, then I remember who I'm talking about here, and I'm worried you've run across and rabid Gnuherde or a Schneetmacher or something and you've decided, you know, you can take them on. Please say that's not what you're doing right now. Oh man…

"**Tuesday, 12:46 a.m.:** Renée, I know you're ignoring your phone. Please call me!"

"**Tuesday, 1:12 a.m.:** Okay, dude. I'm coming over. You're not answering and I need to know you're just at home, asleep, and not ripped to shreds somewhere. Man, please tell me the first two are correct. I'll be there soon.

"**Tuesday 1:35 a.m.:** Come over tomorrow, we can figure this out. I need to see you. I need you… Dammit, never mind. Just come over, please. Tomorrow."

I shook my head as I threw my phone on the passenger seat. Crap! What the hell was I going to do?

I went through the motions at work, but I couldn't think of anything or anyone else but Nick. I wanted to see him again. I wanted… I wanted strawberries.

At lunch I went to a deli that was quite a few miles away from work. I didn't want to run into anyone I knew. I needed to be alone with my thoughts. Finding a seat in the back, I sipped on iced tea while I munched on strawberries and a veggie wrap.

What the hell was that last night? Okay, maybe I could fix this. I was with Monroe. Nick was with Juliette. We couldn't ruin those relationships because he and I were... absolutely perfect for each other. No, that wasn't it. My head physically hurt from trying to rationalize it.

The practiced calm helped to relax me as I took a few deep breaths. I still had another training to go through and that was where I needed to put my focus today. Olly Murs was singing through the speakers as I took in the words.

"_Trouble troublemaker, yeah,  
That's your middlename.  
Oh, oh, oh.  
I know you're no good, but you're stuck in my brain.  
And I wanna know  
Why does it feel so good but hurt so bad?  
Oh, oh, oh.  
My mind keeps saying,  
'Run as fast as you can…'"_

Nick was a troublemaker, and he was…

Dark bangs and blue-green eyes came through the door of the deli. Holy Fucking Hell… He was here!

Nick walked over to my table and sat down in front of me.

"Nick!" I almost yelped. Inside I was nearly giddy. "You can't be here!"

"We really need to talk, and I know you probably weren't going to come over tonight."

My whole body tensed. "How the hell did you find me here?"

"I put a trace on your cell phone."

"You put a… what?"

"I traced your cell with the built in GPS." The man couldn't Google, but he knew how to track a phone? "Well, I had sergeant Wu do it for me." Okay, that made more sense. And it was so sweet that he'd done that to find me. No, it wasn't sweet. No, no, no…

"Nick, last night… What happened was wrong. A million times wrong."

He nodded. "Yeah. Well, maybe. But I couldn't… not kiss you. There's something there. And you kissed me back, so it wasn't just me." He reached for my hand. "I thought it was just a moment of stupidity. But then…" He trailed off as that wonderful, toothy grin emerged.

"What do we do?" His touch sent tingles down my spine. "We can't continue this, right?"

He let go and planted his hands on the table. "No."

I sat up straighter in my chair. "Good. I'm glad you agree."

"You left your jacket and your computer equipment at the trailer last night. They're in my truck."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I didn't have time to pack up everything before I..."

"Before you left." He reached for my hands again. "Maybe we need to talk more about this."

"Maybe we just need to not see each other."

"Now we can't do that." His eyes locked with mine. "We need each other, Renée." We were still holding hands. I didn't want to let them go.

"So what do we do?" I asked again.

"Tell me you feel nothing and I'll never mention it again."

I couldn't say that truthfully. God, I wanted him. I couldn't deny my feelings.

"You aren't saying anything," continued Nick with a slight smirk.

I squeezed his hands tighter. "I don't know what to do."

"Well, you wanna discuss this further in the truck?"

I nodded as he let my hands go. Rummaging through my purse, I laid twenty dollars down on the table. It more than paid for the meal, but I wasn't waiting around for change. Nick reached for my hand again as we walked out of the deli. His Toyota was parked by the door. Before we could get to the truck, he pulled me in close, and I almost fell on my heels. He didn't smell like strawberries anymore. No, the aroma was like a warm ocean breeze, all fresh and clean. I breathed him in as he held me. Our mouths met and it sent butterflies racing through me. His hand moved to the small of my back, pressing me closer against him.

"What the hell are we doing?" I murmured into his open lips.

"Kissing," he replied.

We continued on; mouths moving, electricity building. My hands found their way into his dark hair. We had to look like two teenagers making out to any passersby. He finally pulled back, and somehow I managed to slide into the car seat. My breath came back to me and I held my forehead. Oh, I was light-headed from not breathing.

"Okay, now that kiss was even better than the first one," said Nick once he got into the truck.

I turned to face him. "It was some kiss." My hand moved down to my chest, which was beating madly. It was like it was chanting, Nick-Nick, Nick-Nick, Nick-Nick…

"So what are we going to do about this?" Nick slumped back into the car seat, blue-green eyes focused on my own. "This isn't even right. Should we feel what we feel?"

"No, it's not right at all. But I feel it. And it's getting more intense…"

Nick lazily circled my knee with his finger. "When Juliette said no to my proposal this weekend… Well, I hit a low. But then there's you… _You_ understand me. You know all about this world I've been sucked into. There aren't any secrets I have to keep from you. And yesterday when we were together, it all made sense in a… weird sort of way."

He made a great point. It did make sense. We were both Grimms. Well, I was half a Grimm. But he and Juliette would always have secrets. Maybe this was fate. My Leo Love Bug was bursting forth.

I laid my hand on top of his. "I'm sorry I ran out yesterday. But when I was with you last night, all these feelings were just too overwhelming. And then when Monroe came over…" The guilt resurfaced briefly. "Nick, this is…"

"This is something we need to understand better," he cut in. That wasn't what I was going to say, but it sounded like a good idea. But then again, no. Monroe.

"But I still love Monroe." My heart ached when I said it.

Nick nodded slowly, removing his hand and reaching for his steering wheel staring forward. "I love Juliette, too. Even after what happened this weekend. I still love her."

"So what is this?"

His head shook slowly. "I don't know. But it's something." He quickly turned toward me. "And I know it's wrong to wanna do this." He stretched across the car seat, pulling me in close.

I nodded. "When I look at you, I know it's wrong to want to do this." I was back on his lips, and they were met with such force. My hands ran through his hair and his arms wrapped around me. Oh, it was wonderful. But, then again it was nothing like when Monroe kissed me. Monroe… I pulled away.

"So, do we go along with what we feel?" I asked hesitantly.

"I don't know about you," he replied with his cute, toothy grin," but I don't want to stop."

* * *

A/N: Seems our two Grimms can't keep from smooching. Are you keeping up with the apple tart count? lol!

Interesting comments so far. I have fans pissed at Renée while other are finding this is an interesting twist, and then there are some wanting to see a little Nick action. Lots of diversity. LOL!

I'm loving the Olly Murs song, "Troublemaker." (I listened to it a bit while writing some of this.) While it came later than my timeline, I'm still using the song. It's one of those I wanted to post more than just these lyrics, because it fits well with Renée's feelings, so go have a listen on youtube. You know the drill.


	89. Chapter 89

**Chapter 89**

My training came and went that afternoon, but I wasn't sure exactly what I'd taught them today. The stupid grin on my face was unwavering as I equated gross profits with the growing feeling you get when love swells up inside your heart. Most of them didn't seem to get the analogy, but I sure did.

I played Liz Phair on my MP3 player on the way home.

"_Get a load of me, get a load of you.  
Walkin' down the street, and I hardly know you.  
It's just like we were meant to be.  
Holding hands with you when we're out at night.  
Got a girlfriend, you say it isn't right.  
And I've got someone waiting too…_

_Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?  
Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you?  
It's inevitable, it's a fact that we're gonna get down to it  
So tell me,  
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?"_

God, just thinking of Nick had me where I couldn't breathe and couldn't think straight. He'd called three times since we saw each other at lunch. We were meeting at the trailer in an hour. I'd stop home, freshen up, and then head on over.

My phone rang as I turned on Northwest 23rd Avenue.

"Hello," I said in a sing-song voice.

"Hey, Sexy," replied Monroe. "You sound like you're in a good mood."

"Oh," my breath caught in my throat. "Yeah, I had a good day. How are you?"

"I'm good. Glad to see you're answering your phone again."

I awkwardly chuckled. "Yeah, sorry about last night. I listened to your voicemails this morning."

"Yeah, umm… I kinda got a little worried so, you know those voicemails had to sound a bit, umm, nuts."

"No, it's fine. I won't worry you again." I'll just make out with your best friend instead.

"So, when are you coming over tonight?"

I paused. "Well, remember me telling you about that Grimm database I started on?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Nick wanted to know if I could come over and work on that with him tonight. Would you mind if I took a raincheck?"

"Grimm work. I could help with the German. Come by and we'll go over to the trailer together."

Crap!

"Oh, no. It's going to be the English parts and super boring. Just a bunch of transcription. Honestly, I don't know why he doesn't just let me take the books home. I could get more done that way."

"Well, he really can't let the books get out in the real world, if you know what I mean."

"You're right. So I should just go to the trailer and do the work instead. Good idea."

"Is that what I said?" Monroe sounded puzzled as he paused. "Okay, maybe I did?" Smooth talking 101; always convince the other person it was their idea.

"Thanks. I promise I'll be over tomorrow. Okay?"

"I suppose I could get a head start on a mantel clock that a client dropped off earlier today."

"Mantel clock. Yes, you should do that."

"Don't stay up too late, okay? I want you well rested for tomorrow."

My heart clenched. "Of course. I'll see you tomorrow."

As I hung up the phone, I let out my breath. I'd just pulled a Jack Monahan.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Once I was home, I cleared out my negative thoughts. This was fine, it would work out fine. Ice cream sounded good right now, but I still hadn't bought any. I checked the freezer anyway like I expected it to magically be in there. No, that was one ability I apparently didn't have. I pulled out the Ziploc bag of tarts and nuked one of those instead. Why not cheat on my diet, too?

I munched on my tart as I located my dad's book, _Coins of Ancient Greece._ Nick wanted to look it over. We were going to work on the database tonight, so it wasn't a complete lie. The laptop and scanner were still in the car. I shouldn't have taken my stuff back from Nick, since I was bringing it over again.

I popped the rest of my tart into my mouth and licked my fingers. Damn, that Adalind was too good at baking. I fought with myself to not have a second tart and instead got ready to go to the trailer. I did a once over in the mirror. My hair and makeup were perfect.

As I drove to the seedy parking lot, my hands shook a little. Thoughts of Nick and me alone had my nerves racing, yet I was smiling. I really liked him. No, it was more than that. My heart raced. Was it more? My brain coaxed me to say it… Go on say it. I pulled out my MP3 player and let Van Halen say it for me.

"_Whoa, here it comes  
That funny feelin' again.  
Windin' me up inside  
Every time we touch._

_It's got what it takes,  
So tell me why can't this be love?  
Straight from the heart.  
Oh, tell me why  
Can't this be love?"_

Was that what this was? Oh, God. My Leo Love Bug bit at me to the point of giddiness. Yes, that was it. I was in love. But this was a new record, even for me. Both my heart and brain were in agreement. But Monroe. No, I loved Monroe. Even if my brain was afraid… afraid I'd love too much, let go too much, my heart reminded me I loved him too.

Van Halen finished singing as I pulled up beside Nick's Toyota next to the trailer. I couldn't say anything. No, Nick would think I was mad… crazy even. The butterflies spiraled down to my toes as I got out of my car and knocked on the trailer door.

The door opened and there he was, dark bangs and blue-green eyes as bright as the sun.

Nick rested his hand on the door. "Hi."

"Hey." I bit the edge of my lip as I walked inside.

As the door swung closed behind me, Nick took me in his arms and kissed me hard on the lips. Sure it was wrong, but when he kissed me like that, it was like an explosion went off inside my heart.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you after lunch," he murmured as he continued to kiss me.

"I know. I couldn't stop thinking about you either."

Nick finally let go. "Did you bring your laptop… back?"

'"Yeah." I nodded. "And my scanner, too. We should get some work done." We couldn't just stay in here and make out all night.

The first hour we remained focused, the next hour we were kissing more than reading and typing.

Oh," I said while drawing away from Nick's mouth. "I brought that book of Grecian coins. You never told me what happened with those."

"Well, it was a case, so I really couldn't…" He grinned at me. "I guess it wouldn't hurt."

So Nick went over the whole story of the jewelry store robbery and his talks with a Steinadler named Farley Kolt, who was engaged to his Aunt Marie. A Wesen and a Grimm engaged? Perhaps my situation with Monroe wasn't all that unique. No, I was with Nick right now, I couldn't think about Monroe. Not only had the Steinadler given Nick information about the coins, but he also had told him that one of the jewelry store robbers was involved in his parents' death.

"And you got upset because _I_ was still keeping secrets?" I let out a breath. "Why didn't you tell me about this when we were going over the information about my parents?"

Nick shook his head. "I don't know who to trust, who to believe anymore. I don't even know if Farley Kolt was telling me the truth. Until I can get some definitive evidence on who was involved in killing my parents, I'm not ready to believe anything."

"Could these same people be involved in what happened to my parents, too?"

"I just don't know. Your parents were killed eleven years before mine. It could be the same people." He shrugged. "Renée, I don't have the answers."

I did the math quickly. "So, your parents were killed in 1994?"

Nick slowly nodded. "I was twelve when they died. Marie took me in and raised me just like I was her own."

The math continued. "So you're thirty-one?" I didn't know how old he was. Wow.

"Thirty-one in June."

"And you lived with your Aunt, but you didn't know anything about the Grimms?"

"I had no clue about any of this." His shoulders slumped. "I didn't know about a lot of things."

I leaned against him as we sat on the trailer bed. "We'll get answers, Nick. Real answers. I know we will… for both of us." I reached for the book from my laptop bag, and then turned the page to the coins. "It's not a lot of info," I said while pointing to the section, "since it's supposedly a myth."

Nick read through it, nodding here and there. "Most of it is from what Farley Kolt told me, but it's good to have it written out. I really didn't get an opportunity to do that, given the situation." He turned to me. "And you said your dad had this book?"

I nodded. "He's… was an avid coin collector." I caught myself. Was, as in, 'no more.' I shook the thoughts out. "His book collection was almost as large as his coin collection."

"Where are all his books now?"

"Still back home in his office. I took a few with me, but if my mom had her way she'd give them all to me." I shook my head. "I wouldn't even begin to figure out how to get them all here without another U-Haul." I sighed. The thought of my dad's office stripped bare tore at my chest. Just taking the books I had seemed wrong as it was, but to clean out his office? No, I wasn't going to think about that right now.

"Hey, I didn't mean to bring it up to upset you," said Nick.

I wiped away a few tears. Nick pulled me in closer, slowly kissing my face, then back to my lips. We leaned back on the trailer bed in our silent embrace and my dizziness returned, blurring out the sad memories.

He paused his lip-lock to gaze into my eyes. "I want to show you something."

"Okay." I removed my suit jacket and took a moment to breathe. God, it was hot in here.

Nick crossed the trailer to the wooden armoire and pulled out a small, metal box.

"Remember how I told you Farley tried to leave with the coins?"

I nodded.

"Well, I didn't finish that part of the story." He opened the lid of the box. Three gold coins were displayed in the blue, velvet liner. He picked one up to show me the swastika and the lion on either side, and then quickly put it back in its box.

"Those are… Oh, Nick. Why do you have them?"

Nick told me the rest of the story with finding Farley the Steinadler in the hotel room.

"No one knows I have them. Well, except for Farley Kolt and Monroe… and now you."

I reached out to touch them, but no… No touching. My hands dropped to my sides. Wow, the things those coins had done to the minds of people… or maybe just Wesen? No, leave them in their little box.

I raised an eyebrow. "What are you going to do with them?"

"Nothing." He closed the lid. "I'm not going to use them, if that's what you mean."

"No, I didn't mean it that way, sorry. Just meant, if that Steinadler knows you have them, won't he come looking for you?"

"It's been over a month and I haven't heard from him since that night." He looked up at me. "How did you know Hitler was Wesen?"

"I don't know. It was just a feeling. Sometimes I get gut feelings about things."

"Like with Lydia Swift?"

"Yeah, like that."

"Did you get a gut feeling about us, too?"

The heat crept up my cheeks. "Maybe."

"Well, I get feelings too." Nick put the coins away and took me by the hand. "When I look at you, I see a woman who is smart and sensuous, with a fire burning within her. A woman who has passion and a lot of heart."

The heat spread further. "You're really good at this."

"Anyone ever tell you that you blush a lot?" Nick asked as he studied my face.

"I blame Portland," I replied, touching my cheeks involuntarily. "The men here do something to me."

"Maybe it's just me… doing something to you." His kisses trailed down my face and we eventually moved back to the trailer bed.

"Yeah, I think you do something to me," I said while trying to keep afloat.

"I love you," Nick breathed into my ear before he kissed it.

I shot up as the 'L' word passed from his lips. Love me? Oh my! He felt it, too? That soon, that easily? Could it really be?

His eyes looked down as he smoothed back his bangs. "I'm sorry. That was too much, wasn't it?"

"No…"

His eyes flashed up. "No?"

"I think I'm falling in love with you, too."

The 'L' word fell off my tongue effortlessly. There was no hesitation like with Monroe. It flowed from my lips like it was meant to be said. But why was it so easy? I wanted this. That had to be it.

"Should we talk about it first?" he asked as he took my hands in his. "It's not rational, is it?"

"I don't know. But I feel it." I placed my hand on my chest. "Maybe it's just fate."

"Fate?" He shook his head. "No, it's not that. I'm just trying to understand it."

"Sorry. Gemini, I forgot."

"Monroe mentioned you were into astrology stuff," Nick chuckled. "What does that have to do with this?"

"It's just that you play on logic not your heartstrings."

"Nothing wrong with logic. But with this… I feel it, too, but I normally don't just jump in like this." He looked into my eyes. "But I really feel this."

"So do I. And Gemini is a good sign for me."

He stifled a laugh. "What's so great about Geminis?"

"So many things." I beamed at him. "Geminis are great at objective reasoning. They're spirited, always in search of information, and their curious mind is continuously turned on. You can multi-task like there's no tomorrow. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Ian Fleming were both Geminis. Together they gave us the world's best fictional detective and spy. Gemini is the sign of brilliant minds, Nick."

"Brilliant. Really?" He openly laughed this time. "So why is it a good sign for you?"

"Leos are creative and inventive, while Geminis need to keep their minds stimulated and need someone who can keep up with that overactive brain of theirs. Leos step up to that challenge. Both are optimists who have explorative natures. Air fuels fire and helps it spread far and wide. Together there's no stopping them." I smiled. "We make a good team."

Nick gave me that charismatic, toothy grin of his. "I told you that already."

"So did the stars," I replied with a grin of my own.

"I think I can start on the part of fueling your fire."

Nick moved forward and lightly trickled kisses down my neck, undoing the first two of my buttons then lingering his lips on my collarbone. Nick wasn't aggressive. It wasn't… What was the word I was looking for? Animalistic… that was it. With Nick it was just human.

He took his time, and instead of taking off my blouse, he moved back to my mouth. Hands roamed my body, and I wanted to rip his clothes off, but I held back. This was new, so we could take our time with it. I hadn't made out this much since Junior year. His ocean scent wafted through the trailer, salt water with a hint of lemon. Whatever it was, it smelled wonderful.

Nick's phone rang as I was loosening up a few more buttons on Nick's burgundy shirt.

Nick stopped and sighed. "I have… to get this."

I leaned back as Nick pulled his phone from his pocket.

"Burkhardt… Where?" He looked over at me. "Give me twenty, okay Hank?"

He gave me a disheartened stare as he put away his phone.

"Work?"

"Yeah. I've got a B and E on the Southwest side," said Nick while getting up.

"No, it's okay. I probably should go anyway." I sat up straight, buttoning back up. We'd gotten down to three on mine. "Unless I can go with you. Maybe the force can issue me a bulletproof vest with 'Trainer' written on the front."

Nick scratched his head. "I don't think that's such a…"

"I'm kidding," I replied, cutting him off. "I was making a reference from the TV show, _Castle_."

"Never seen it."

I shook my head. Maybe cops didn't watch cop shows.

Nick bent down and gave me one more kiss. "Tomorrow night…"

I nodded and grinned. "Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow."

"Okay then. That's enthusiastic."

"Sorry, it's from Macbeth."

"Shakespeare?"

"Yeah, that would be Shakespeare."

Monroe would've understood in an instant. Monroe… tomorrow. Oh, Crap! I'd figure it out somehow. I needed to wash my clothes tonight and get Nick's scent off me. Oh, no. What about my car? These clothes would smell like Nick, and I couldn't wash the inside of my car. The cloth seats… Dammit.

I looked up at Nick. "We've gotta get our scents out of our cars."

"Scents? What do you mean?"

"Monroe is gonna smell you on me, and when I leave, the smell will transfer to my cloth seats. God, he can't know. Not yet anyway." I held my head in my hands.

"I think I have something that will help." Nick walked toward the apothecary cabinet and opened one of the drawers. He pulled out a dried herb and brought it over. "This is wolfsbane. If you rub it over the car seats it should mask the scent."

"You have this?" I reached out for the herb. "You can grow it here?"

"Where does it usually grow?"

"It's indigenous to Europe and Northern Asia." I turned it over in my hands. "It's in the books."

"Well, it's also in this trailer. So use it, umm, somehow on the seats."

"I wonder if I can grind it, mix it with something, and spray it."

"Okay, you work on that, but I have to go." He opened the trailer door. "I'm sorry."

I gathered my things and walked to the door.

He kissed me again. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I replied, still trying to believe we were really there.

We both got in our cars. I headed home while Nick headed off to save the world, one crook at a time. On the ride back, my mind was all in a tizzy. I was humming every love song in my mental jukebox on the drive home. I sang along with 'Hooked on a Feeling' with a silly grin as big as a Cheshire cat on my face.

"_I can't stop this feeling  
Deep inside of me  
Boy, you just don't realize  
What you do to me _

_I, I'm hooked on a feeling  
I'm high on believing  
That you're in love with me…" _

Nick loved me, too. But Monroe… Dammit. And now I was seeing them both tomorrow. They couldn't know they were time sharing. I was organized, so I could schedule it out, right?

* * *

A/N: Love? Love!? Oh, boy, right?

Renée is getting more backstory, and Nick seems more inclined to let Renée know about things he's kept hidden. Guess love does that to ya, huh?

Sorry, bad _Castle_ joke. Rick Castle wears a bulletproof vest with the word, "Writer" instead of police. (Just in case you've never seen the show, he's a novelist who follows around a detective to help write mystery books.)

Can Renée juggle two men? Guess we'll see...

So are you still with me, dear readers? I hope so!


	90. Chapter 90

**Chapter 90**

Once I arrived home, I pulled out my laptop, searching the web on how to make herbal sprays. I was a terrible person. Regardless, Monroe couldn't find out with his nose. No, that would be even worse. The directions seemed simple; just grind up the herb, soak it in water overnight, and transfer the mixture into a spray bottle. Presto, liquid deception. Yeah, I was a terrible person. Maybe this was wrong. I still loved Monroe. But these feelings for Nick… I loved him, too. I'd make it work somehow.

I grinded the herb and added the water. Tomorrow I'd take care of the car. I tossed my clothes in the washer and caught up on _Jeopardy _after I showered.

My phone beeped during the second half of _Jeopardy_, and I paused the show to check my phone. It was a text from Chloe.

**How's the nixing going? Wish U were here.**

Attached was a picture of Chloe on the beach, holding up some fruity drink. I sent her a text back.

**It's going ok. Have fun. Miss U.**

The phone beeped back quickly.

**Dammit, what have U done?**

Even on the other side of the country, the brain links never faltered. Before I could type back, the phone rang.

"Please tell me you didn't do anything stupid," said Chloe when I answered the phone.

"Define stupid," I replied calmly.

"Oh, shit." Her teeth clicked loudly in my ear. "Do you still have feelings for the Grimm?"

"Yeah."

"Have you acted on these feelings?"

I took in a breath.

"Renée?! I swear I will fly back to Portland and slap some sense into you!"

"Chloe, it's fine, so don't worry about it."

"Don't tell me that, 'cause now I think you've slept with him."

"I haven't slept with him." Yet.

"What have you done with him?"

"We sort of… kissed." A lot.

She clicked her teeth again as she scowled. "And Monroe?"

"I'm still with Monroe."

"So what…? Are you gonna double dip?"

"I don't know what I'm going to do yet. I care about them both. Right now just be happy for me."

"Girl, this is beyond drama. This is soap opera crap, and you know how much I hate soap operas."

"Unless I fall in love with an evil twin, it's not a soap opera."

"This is no time for jokes." The clicking continued as she spoke. "Quit while you're ahead, and snap the fuck out of it!"

"Enjoy Florida and the beach bunnies, and don't worry about me, okay?"

"You are walking a dangerous line," she sighed out. "Please be safe and make up your mind."

I sighed as I hung up. Maybe Chloe was right, maybe I needed to choose. But I loved them both, I really did. I hooked up my MP3 player as I played The Lovin' Spoonful's take on the situation.

"_Did you ever have to make up your mind?  
Pick up on one and leave the other one behind.  
It's not often easy, and not often kind.  
Did you ever have to make up your mind?  
Did you ever have to finally decide?  
Say yes to one and let the other one ride.  
There's so many changes, and tears you must hide.  
Did you ever have to finally decide?"_

It was too soon to make decisions. I'd figure it out later. Much later.

* * *

A/N: Poor Chloe. She's trying hard, but Renée is stubborn.

Short chapter, sorry. Two more chapters tonight!


	91. Chapter 91

**Chapter 91**

Dreams of Nick danced in my head all night. I was grinning from ear to ear when I awoke. I didn't have any trainings today, so my plan was simple: Daytime with Monroe, nighttime with Nick. Simple and easy.

I hummed Sweet's 'Love is Like Oxygen' as I showered.

"_Love is like oxygen;__  
__You get too much you get too high.__  
__Not enough and you're gonna die.__  
__Love gets you high…"_

Currently I was on a love overload and I was beyond high. Hopefully I wasn't being too prideful, but my heart and mind were determined to make this work. I'd find equal time to be with both of them. My heart was big enough to share the love, and I could make them happy.

After my shower, I dressed quickly, and then called Monroe.

"Hey, this is an early call for you," he said. "Everything all right?"

"Great actually. I'm working from home today, so maybe if you're not busy I could work from your home?"

"I'd like that," he replied with that trademark smile of his pouring though the receiver.

Rummaging through my bathroom, I found a small spray bottle. I headed back to the kitchen and poured the wolfsbane mixture from last night inside, screwing the cap on tightly. Hopefully this would work, but did wolfsbane have a smell? The book had said it would confuse his senses. Would Monroe realize his senses were confused? I shook my head. No time to worry now.

I gingerly sprayed the car seats and took in the smell. I didn't smell anything, but I didn't have a Blutbad nose, either. I closed my eyes tightly, taking in another whiff. Nothing. Either it would work, or I'd have to explain why my car smelled like wolfsbane. I'd rather explain that than why it smelled like Nick.

I made a pit-stop at Best Buy across the bridge before heading to Monroe's. Fortunately, I was in and out quickly, and then I drove back over the bridge and to Southwest Hamilton Street.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Monroe opened the door and looked oddly at my hands full of shopping bags as I stepped inside. I set everything down on the couch.

"What's all that?" he asked.

"Close your eyes," I said with a grin.

Monroe did as I asked. I lifted his hands and handed him a box while a grin played on his face.

"Okay," I said. "Open them."

He looked down at the box. "Whoa, the whole collection?" Monroe asked.

I nodded. "Fifty years of James Bond."

Monroe looked the box over. "Oh, but it's the Blu-Ray set. I don't have one of those things."

I pointed to the couch. "You do now."

"Dude, really? What's all this for?"

Because I felt guilty as hell.

"Because you enjoy James Bond and I want to watch them with you."

Monroe chuckled. "You're the only woman I know who would marathon Bond with me."

"Good. Then this ought to give us a few date nights."

We connected the new player to Monroe's TV and watched _Dr. No_ while I tried to work. Work was cast off to the side as we watched more of the movie. Eventually the movie was discarded while Monroe and I did much more enjoyable tasks. Thoughts of Nick left me as Monroe took my body over, engulfing me with that fire that I knew so well. Strong hands gripped me and I melted into his embrace.

For the next hour the Blutbad took control and I was in heaven. Afterwards I collapsed in his arms, moist with sweat, and enjoying the silly grin planted on my face.

The rest of the day was spent watching James Bond with a short break in between for lunch. I was distracted through most of it. My thoughts trailed back to Nick. I'd see him soon and then we'd…

"Did you hear me?" asked Monroe a bit loudly, interrupting my thoughts.

"What?"

"I was telling you that the screenplay for _You Only Live Twice_ was written by Roald Dahl. You know the author of _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_. He also wrote the screenplay for _Chitty Chitty Bang Bang_ which, ironically, is also by Ian Fleming. How that dude went from espionage to musical cars I'll never know."

"Hmm…"

"Everything okay with you?" Monroe asked, pausing the movie. "You seem a bit… off tonight." He reached for my hand. I looked into his soulful, brown eyes, regarding me with concern. But Nick's blue-green ones floated back into my mind. "So what's brewing inside that brain of yours?" He raised an eyebrow as he watched me. "You've kinda got this, like... glazed, umm, anesthetized look going on."

Was it that obvious I was lost in thought about another man's eyes? Crap.

"I'm great," I replied, forcing my smile. I tried to block out Nick and just think of the brown eyes in front of me. "Work has been… I'm just…" I could usually come up with things easier, but I just wasn't able to get the words out smoothly.

"You're here, not at work." Monroe pulled me toward him. "Watch some more Bond and just unwind a little, okay?"

"Yeah. You're right." I leaned against his shoulder as Monroe pressed the play button.

"_Your cheatin' heart will tell on you…"_

The words beat at my brain in succession like a banal drum. What was I gonna do?

Once we were Bonded out, I went back to my PowerPoint, keeping an eye on the clock. Nick would call soon, I was getting anxious.

Monroe flipped channels on the TV. "Hey, isn't this that one show we watched, umm, that one time before?"

I glanced up. Sookie and Eric were on the screen. "Yeah. That's _True Blood_."

"So, now I'm more confused," said Monroe as he continued to watch. "Now she's with the blonde vampire? Last time we were watching this thing wasn't she, like, pretending to be with the Werewolf to find the brunette vampire 'cause she loved him or something?"

"Yeah, but this is the next season," I explained. "In this season things change because of the witches that are in town."

"There's witches?" Monroe chuckled as he shook his head. "Are there Zombies, too?"

I laughed. "No Zombies."

"What does a witch have to do with them getting together?" Monroe asked as he gestured toward the screen.

"Well, Sookie normally detests Eric, but you see Eric has lost his memory because a witch put a curse on him. So now Sookie is seeing him in a whole new light and falls for him." I curled my leg under me. "She takes Eric in and starts to realize he's not so annoying after all. Actually, she does more than fall for him. She loves him. Like really, loves him and…" I stopped on that last part. Minus the memory loss, I was describing my relationship with Nick. Crap. My face flushed slightly. "So, then later in the season Sookie accidentally jolts Eric's memory and he's back to his normal self."

"Wow, they're going with the whole amnesia shtick, huh?" Monroe shook his head. "Why do TV shows do that? I mean, it's such a well-worn plotline. You'd think they'd come up with something, you know, a little more creative than that, you know?"

"Yeah, but it's a plotline people seem to enjoy," I idly replied. "And it really changes up the dynamic of the characters, especially in this show." I turned toward Monroe. "We don't have to watch this."

"We can watch a few more minutes," Monroe replied as his eyes focused on Sookie's extremely short, denim skirt. "I don't mind really." I held back a chuckle.

On the screen, Eric looked down at Sookie. "Are you mine?" he asked, almost curiously.

Sookie crossed her arms and scoffed out an indignant, "No."

"Do you belong to another vampire?"

Sookie hesitated, but then replied more softly as she glanced down, "No."

With sincerity Eric asked, "Would you like to be mine?"

"Um, not really," Sookie sarcastically replied as her arms remained tightly crossed in front of her, "but thank you for askin',"

The word 'mine' had me a bit tense as it played out on the screen. Monroe hadn't said it since our talk after the red rope debacle. I wanted to question him and find out why he didn't ask me to be his, instead of doing some ritual in the woods without my knowledge. Maybe Blutbaden didn't ask their potential mates. Maybe they just took whomever they wanted.

"So, umm, is she telling him the truth?" Monroe asked with as much curiosity as Eric had asked Sookie. "She's doesn't belong to anyone?"

"She's being truthful. Right now she's an independent woman."

"What happened to the brunette vampire?"

"She still loves him, too. It's complicated. She really loves them both, but in the end since she can't choose either one of them, she leaves them." I shuddered. Would I have to give up both Monroe and Nick if I couldn't choose, too? It seemed Sookie and I still had a bond after all.

"Does the werewolf dude ever get any love?" Monroe grinned.

"Oh, he gets a bit here and there." I nudged him. "It wouldn't be good TV if she wasn't having steamy love scenes with all of them."

As Eric blocked Sookie's path while trying to leave, he asked, "What are you?"

Sookie looked down again. "I am really sick of being asked that question is what I am," she slowly replied.

Monroe turned to me. "So what is she?"

"Well, she's a fairy. And fairy blood, unfortunately, is like liquid cocaine to vampires. They taste like…" I trailed off. Talking about these things hit just a bit too close to home. "They're… addictive."

Monroe chuckled. "Is that why you asked your grandma if you were a fairy?"

"Maybe," I crossed my own arms. "But thankfully I'm not, which is fine with me. I'd hate to have vampires knocking down my door, wanting a free sample."

"Doesn't seem like they have to knock," he chuckled. "She invites them in to spend the night."

My mind bounced back to the Blutbad sampling me by the Blue Moon Bar. He thought I tasted pretty spectacular. And Monroe had already mentioned I had a unique flavor, too. No, I didn't want to be Wesen cocaine that was for sure.

"You wanna watch the next Bond?" I offered. We needed to watch something else, stat.

"Let's save those for later." Monroe turned off the TV. "So what do you want to do for dinner tonight?" he asked as I set my laptop down on the couch beside me. He curled his arm over my shoulder. "I was thinking we could go out and, you know, maybe try this new Moroccan place I passed by on a delivery the other day. What do you think?"

"Oh, I was going to head out soon, actually," I coolly replied.

"Do you have plans tonight?" Monroe asked as he trailed his fingers up my arm.

"Just transcribing the journals with Nick."

"Again?" He raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you do that last night?"

"Yeah, but we found another journal hidden in a cabinet."

"Hmm… Okay, so let's grab some dinner, then you and I can head on over there together."

"No," I shook my head. "You don't have to do that. It might go late."

"I know why you don't want me over there," began Monroe and I tensed under his arm. "You think I'm going to be offended with what I might read. It's not like I haven't read parts of those books before, and I'm fine with it. I mean, as fine as one can be, I guess considering the content. But anyway, it would go much faster, you know, if I helped out. I really don't mind, you know?"

"It's not that," I replied as I nuzzled close beside him. "It's just boring work."

"No, that's not why you guys don't want me to help. He's afraid I'm gonna touch something I shouldn't, isn't he?"

Nick was already touching something _he _shouldn't. Namely, me.

"That's not the reason, Monroe."

"Well, then what is it? Tell me."

I raised my head up to face him. "Honey, you can come if you want to, but do you remember how Nick was in the car to California with all the questions?"

"How could I forget?" he scoffed.

"Well, it's ten times worse than that. It's hours of questions."

"But you guys talk about other things, right?"

No, because our mouths were too busy kissing.

"Not really. I'm just trying to play nice." I feigned a smile. I wasn't playing nice at all. I was playing a dangerous game.

"I can handle the questions."

I nodded. Totally screwed. If I pushed anymore, then he was just going to get suspicious. "Okay then. I'll text Nick and let him know you're willing to help out tonight."

I stood and went over to the cedar chest, pulling my phone out of my shoulder bag. I let out a quick breath and texted Nick.

**Monroe wants to help us w/ the database tonight. He's coming over.**

I remained standing, waiting for a reply. Finally it beeped.

**No. We'll just see each other tomorrow.**

That wasn't going to work. If Nick cancelled then Monroe was gonna either know something was up or really think Nick didn't want him around. I typed quickly.

**If we cancel it'll look suspicious. U need to clean the trailer up.**

Another beep.

**Fine. I think I have more wolfsbane. I'll take care of the trailer. Give me a couple hours.**

I nodded slowly. Okay. This would be okay.

**We'll call when we're on the way.**

I dropped my phone back into my bag. Steadying my breaths, I turned to smile at Monroe. "Nick will see us in a few hours. So, you said something about Moroccan?"

* * *

A/N: Renée isn't feeling entirely guilt-free with what she's doing.

So, Nick and Monroe together... Not exactly as simple as Renée had hoped, huh?

I've said it before... I'm a big fan of _True Blood_, so I'm sure there will be more references to that show/book series.

One more chapter today before the new episode of Grimm airs tonight. (:


	92. Chapter 92

**Chapter 92**

After a leisurely dinner out, Monroe volunteered to call Nick to let him know we were driving over.

"Yeah, man. We'll be there soon," he said, finishing the call.

I kept watch of his face, anticipating that Nick might say something that would alert Monroe, but he seemed just fine. My stomach was in knots, and I held it tightly as we walked back to my Malibu. At least the wolfsbane spray seemed to be working. Monroe hadn't acted like there was anything different about the car.

We buckled up, and I started the engine. A small voice in my head yelled at me to just call Nick and cancel, then go back to Monroe's, but it was too late for all that. Until I had to choose, this was how it would be.

I turned on the radio as we pulled out the restaurant parking lot.

"_You can't hide your lyin' eyes.  
And your smile is a thin disguise…"_

I held in my scowl and changed the channel.

"_Wake up call.  
Caught you in the morning with another one in my bed…"_

I pushed another preset.

"_What goes around, goes around, goes around,  
Comes all the way back around…"_

I changed the channel again.

"_Though you keep on saying you really, really, really love me.  
Do you speak the same words to someone else when I'm not there?"_

I franticly pressed another button.

"_But either way, there's gonna be a  
Heartache tonight, a heartache tonight I know…"_

I shut the damn radio off. It hated me right now. I hated me right now, too…

"Uhh, couldn't find anything you liked?" Monroe asked. I turned to him as he shook his head.

"I found too many things I like," I muttered in reply.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

The trailer looked like a large, tin can of guilt. They were both gonna be in there together with me in that small space. My heart pounded up in my chest as I edged out of my car. I opened the back seat, pulling out my laptop and scanner. I reached for my work laptop as well; the more computers, the better. We'd just work tonight and I'd try not to think about everything else. Hopefully I could handle it.

"You got everything?" Monroe asked as I closed the car door.

"Yeah." I turned to him standing behind me. He looked so good tonight in his green plaid shirt. The guilt resurfaced.

"Let me help you with that one," he pointed to one of the bags and I passed it over.

A small voice in the back of my mind pushed through. 'You don't really feel anything for Nick. It's Monroe. You love Monroe.' I shook my head as the voice retreated into one of the mental filing cabinets.

"Let's go," I said hastily.

Monroe knocked on the trailer door and shortly after Nick emerged. I held in my breath. He looked really good tonight, too. The top button on his blue denim shirt was undone. My instincts pushed at me to walk over there and undo a few more, but I held back.

Nick awkwardly looked in my direction with a smile, then over to Monroe. "Hey, come in," he said, clasping his hands together. He let out a quick breath as I walked past him.

The urge to touch him tugged harder, but I refrained as I moved forward. Monroe and I sat down on the trailer bed. More guilt returned as thoughts of what else we'd done on that bed came back to me.

Monroe sniffed the air and tilted his head as he looked toward Nick. "Man, what did you spray in here?"

I swallowed hard. Oh, God. What had Nick tried to do?

"Umm, Lysol," he replied. "Is it too strong?"

"Uh, yeah. It's, like, a miasma of chemicals mixed with a…" he sniffed again. "Is that supposed to be citrusy?" He shook his head. "Do those dudes even know what a real orange smells like?" He gagged.

"Sorry," Nick said while wiping his hands on his jeans. "Just trying to freshen the place up."

"If you want fresh, don't use that crap anymore, 'cause it ain't working."

"Noted," replied Nick with a nod. He turned toward his desk. "Okay. Well, I have these three books to work on tonight," Nick continued, pointing to a stack of large journals. "Monroe, if you want to work on translating this one, we'll work on the other two." He picked up the top book and passed it over to Monroe, who eagerly took it.

"Yeah. You got it, man," he said with a nod. "I'm really happy to do this, you know," he told Nick.

"I'm sure you are," he responded a bit grudgingly, but Monroe didn't seem to notice his tone.

"I'm just gonna sit here while not touching anything and just, you know, translate touch-free. Well, except for this." He waved his hands over the journal. "I'll be touching just the books tonight."

"Okay." Nick gave him a slight nod. "That's good, I guess." He cast me a pained stare as his eyes widened slightly.

I shook it off. Right now I just wanted to focus on the books. Chaining up my mental filing cabinet I pulled open my bag, retrieving a steno pad and a pen. "Here you go, Monroe. You can transcribe on this." I tried to hand him both items, but he already had the book open, completely engrossed.

I laid them on top of the book, and Monroe jerked his head up. "Oh, thanks." Monroe chuckled. "Guess that would help, huh?"

I glanced over at Nick and mouthed, 'Sorry,' as I held back my pout.

He kept his gaze on me, mouthing back, 'Come outside with me.'

I glanced over at Monroe, who was already writing fanatically. I wanted to lean on his arm, but then what would Nick say? Oh, this was awful.

I turned back to Nick. Arms crossed and leaning against his desk, he stared at me with a mix of lust and longing, which was a dangerous combo given the company. I tapped my nose as my eyes darted toward Monroe. 'Come on, Nick,' I silently said. 'Use your head.'

Nick pointed to the trailer door. I shook my head at him. If I went outside then I'd want to hold him, and then no amount of wolfsbane would hide what I was feeling.

Instead, I went back to the task at hand and reached for my laptop bag. Tonight we would be strictly professional. I stood and walked over to the desk, set down the laptop, and turned it on. Once the screen came to life, I connected the scanner. The flash drive went in next, followed by the encryption code.

"Nick, if you want to work on scanning in the drawings from this one, I'll transcribe the other one on the bed... beside Monroe," I emphasized.

"Grab that other chair and set your laptop on the desk near mine." His hand brushed against mine as a cascade of goosebumps flew up my arm. "It'll be easier to type that way."

I glanced over at Monroe, who was in his own little world, nodding and scribbling away. He wasn't paying any attention. I turned back toward Nick as he reached for my hand again. I wanted to keep holding it, but I let it go just as quickly.

"The trailer bed is fine," I assured him, scooping up the journal and making my way back there, tout suite. I took in a few slow breaths. I'd just avoid Nick like the plague; a plague that just happened to have the side effects of rapid heart palpitations, heavy breathing, and giddiness. Oh, this was hard.

I opened up my work laptop so I could get started and hummed Lenka while the computer booted up.

"_I'm just a little bit caught in the middle.  
Life is a maze and love is a riddle._

_Slow it down, make it stop or else my heart is going to pop.  
'Cause it's too much, yeah it's a lot to be something I'm not.  
I'm a fool out of love 'cause I just can't get enough…"_

I was in the middle and it was all I could do not to have a panic attack.

"Man, I don't think this part is very accurate," Monroe mumbled as he shook his head. "Steve never did any of this stuff." He looked up at Nick. "I think you need to omit some of these parts, dude."

"Sure, if it's not accurate, just don't put it in," Nick hastily replied as he glanced from the computer over to Monroe. He clenched his fists and then flexed his fingers, opening the book with one hand and reached for the scanner with the other.

Monroe nudged me as he showed me a section, trying to explain what he meant. I heard about half of it as Monroe took my hand in his. I leaned against him, but then the sound of Nick's chair had me back up instantly.

"Hey, Renée. Come here for a second. Hold this book while I scan this image. I can't get it to lay flat."

"You can manage," I idly replied not looking up. Monroe nudged me giving me a 'be nice' look. If he only knew I was trying to be nice.

Nick was eyeballing me as I slid the laptop off my knees and walked toward the desk. The book was lying down just fine. He jotted something on his notepad and spun it toward me.

**I can't do this.**

I sighed quietly and wrote back.

**I'm sorry. I love him, too. You know that.**

Nick shook his head as he read the words. He wrote again.

**You don't have to love him in front of me.**

I looked up at him as his eyes dulled into a stormy gray. I wrote again.

**Let's just work and try not to think about it tonight.**

Nick read it then let out a quick sigh, nodding slowly. He tore off the paper, making an effort to crumble it into the tiniest ball possible. One could only imagine what that paper represented.

I went back to the trailer bed, grabbed the laptop and book, and made a conciliatory move over to the floor. It would be better if I was working in my car. Leaning against the apothecary cabinet, I crossed my legs and plopped the computer on top. Since the car wasn't an option, I'd just work over here, away from both of them.

Monroe glanced up. "Why are you sitting there?" He circled the trailer bed with his finger. "Come back up here. There's plenty of room."

"No, this is better," I insisted while opening the book. "It helps keep my back straight." And my thoughts, I added internally.

Monroe shrugged. "All right, but it seems kinda lonely though."

Out of the corner of my eye, Nick was staring at me. Oh, how I wanted to return that stare. "It's good. The trailer is small, so I'm not lonely."

"If you say so." Monroe didn't question further as his eyes rested back on his book.

I forced myself to concentrate. There was still so much to do with the database. Using my work laptop was risky, and this work was definitely not related to training. Well, not the training it was meant for anyway. Deleting the files wasn't a problem, but regardless, it was dangerous having this kind of information on it. Whether it was more dangerous than having a Grimm and a Blutbad in the same small space while holding back hot and bothered thoughts for both was uncertain, but it was close. Still, I had to remain distracted. Absorbing my mind with the computer was the best defense against the other thoughts that were looming around in there. And they were looming, all hot and… Holy crap, it had to stop.

An hour into transcription, and I was already back to thinking of other things. Monroe and Nick things. Monroe was fielding all the questions tonight as I tried to remain quiet and fade into the background. They were both engaged in discussing a bit of everything, and thankfully I was out of the spotlight.

Occasionally I'd glance up at Nick, who was busy scanning, and my heart would leap up, but then I'd turn my focus to Monroe, who was busy interpreting, and my heart would ache. I was a horrible person. But I loved them both. My feelings pushed against me as I briefly closed my eyes. How could I feel this much simultaneously for two separate people?

My phone beeped in my pocket, startling me. I pulled it out to see a text message from Chloe. It was a photo of her standing in front of the ocean. Her tan looked great against her bikini. The Voodoo doughnut had done no damage from what I could tell. Attached to the photo was a text.

**Who did U pick?**

I sighed at the words. The direct link to my brain was working overtime. Poor Chloe. With the thoughts I was having lately, it had to be hard to keep up. I took a moment to type back.

**I haven't yet.**

The phone rang moments after I sent the reply. Of course she'd call. I pushed the silent button on my phone.

"Who was that?" Monroe asked curiously.

"Just Chloe. I'll call her back," I replied, trying not to shake my head.

The phone beeped again. She wasn't giving up. I set the book aside to text my friend.

**Chloe: ****Why didn't U answer?  
****Me:**** Because I'm w/ both of them right now.  
****Chloe: ****WTF?!111  
****Me:**** Not like that. Perv.  
****Chloe: ****Whew! Good. I can stop having a heart attack on the beach now. Thx. What are U doing w/ both of them?  
****Me:**** Trailer work.  
****Chloe: ****SMH - That's dangerous, girl. So how long are U gonna draw out this charade? o_0  
****Me:**** It's not a charade. I'm just trying to figure out my feelings.  
****Chloe:**** I'm still Team Monroe. I'm just sayin'. =)  
****Me:**** Great. I'll be sure to let him know he has a fan club. :-P I'll call you later.**

I turned off my phone. It wasn't as easy as picking teams. I loved them both for different reasons. I hummed as I glanced over at Nick.

"_If I only could decide,  
But I can't make up my mind.  
I'm breakin' all my rules because of you…"_

I turned my gaze toward Monroe.

"_You can tell me it's not right,  
And it tears me up inside,  
But the problem is I'm so in love with two…"_

I closed my eyes again. These feelings of love were battling inside my brain, giving me a headache. Unlike Mikaila's song, I couldn't give Monroe and Nick a ranking. They were both my number one. It was a tie.

"You doing all right over there?" Monroe asked as I opened my eyes. His brow furrowed while he looked me up and down.

"It's just hard to read some of this tiny handwriting," I lied, blinking a few times. I had to get a grasp on my thoughts.

My finger traced my lip as I read through pages of my ancestors' tales of stalking out Wesen and lopping off heads. Perhaps Monroe wasn't so far off course with my little driver's license search. It seemed stalking Wesen was in my blood. I felt eyes on me and I glanced back up to Monroe, zeroed in on my finger. He licked at his own lip as my breath hiccupped. My finger moved between my teeth as I tried to keep my eyes on the computer. Thoughts of pouncing and growling with Monroe overwhelmed me.

Another set of eyes were boring into me. Nick seemed interested in where my finger was lingering, too. That sexy smirk emerged as my skin prickled at the thought of my lips on that smirk. The thoughts were brief because they wouldn't be hidden thoughts much longer. Between both men ogling me, you could cut the thick fog of testosterone in the room with a knife. Surely this much sexual tension would alert Monroe. This confined space wouldn't hide anything no matter how much Lysol Nick had sprayed. It was good to prevent germs, but it didn't kill the love virus, and I was infected, terminally.

Nick pulled out his phone, typing away as his gorgeous eyes flicked up at me a few times. His phone beeped back moments later, and he grinned, running a hand through his hair. Who was he texting? From that smirk… Oh, it must be Juliette.

Monroe turned toward him. 'Man, what kinda work are you doing over there?" He gave him a knowing look. Actually that was really smart. Monroe would think he was sending steamy texts to Juliette, explaining any scents he might be giving off. But then again, what if he was really texting her? I shot him a look and he returned it back. Oh, he really was. I held in my scowl. Well, I couldn't blame him too much. It wasn't like Juliette was in here with us. How awkward would that quartet be? I shook my head.

After quite a few texts, Nick rose up and edged toward me, which only made things worse.

"I need to check these drawers," said Nick as he leaned down beside me. "One of the diagrams describes a bloodroot mixture, and I think I remember seeing some of the herb in here." The smell of warm ocean waves reached my nose as he moved closer, while I scooted off to the side as quick as I could. "I wanna add the drawer number to the diagram for future reference," he continued as his sexy, toothy grin emerged. "You think we should link it like that?"

"Uh, yeah. Good idea."

"I thought so. It's good to link things together that mean something," he replied giving me a knowing look. He meant a lot of somethings to me. I let a small sigh escape me.

"Man, bloodroot is nasty stuff though," Monroe warned from behind us. "If you've got that in there, don't get it on your skin unless you want a rash that'll last a week. And definitely don't get it in your mouth. It causes a burning sensation in the stomach, and I'm talking, like, the kind that Pepto Bismol ain't gonna cure."

"I try not to chew on the things I find in here," Nick retorted. I begged to differ. "The book said it causes paralysis," he continued.

"Well, yeah. If you ingest a whole lot of the stuff. That is if you can hold it down long enough for it to do anything."

"What if you're hit with an arrow full of it?"

Monroe lowly whistled. "Whoa, now that'll definitely freeze someone in their tracks."

Nick continued to open the apothecary drawers while I was chaining my drawers of dirty thoughts shut. The mental filing cabinets were brimming full of them.

He brushed against my arm as he opened another. "Hmm, not in this one."

"Maybe it's in one of those up there," I offered as I pointed to the top row.

"No. It's definitely down here somewhere," Nick replied with a smirk. He slid one out near my shoulder. "Hmm, not in that one either. Now where did I see it?" Nick knelt down beside me, reaching for the bottom drawers as I slid closer to the trailer door.

The room was getting warmer and I was feeling a bit dizzy, watching him stretch that sexy, lean body of his down further. His fingers trailed up my leg discreetly, pulling another drawer open. I fought back the urge to take hold of him right there. Just count to ten and relax.

One, two, three…

I slowed my breaths as he continued pilfering drawers. God, that Grimm could pilfer my drawers right now.

Four, five, six…

His fingers dipped under my pant leg. I gripped my jeans.

Seven-eight-nine-ten. Dammit!

I couldn't take any more, so I got up on my feet and sat beside Monroe while Nick continued his search. I reached my hands up Monroe's neck and into his hair, allowing my thoughts to shift toward the Blutbad. It wasn't hard. I glanced down at the inseam of Monroe's slacks. Well, perhaps it was. Oh, God…

"_If you can't be with the one you love, Honey, love the one you're with…"_

The song blew through my mind. I loved Monroe, and right now I couldn't love Nick while he was sitting across from us. No, that was completely out of the question. Perhaps Chloe was right. I needed to choose. But I didn't even half understand these feelings, much less try to direct them completely in a single direction. No, I couldn't choose, and I didn't want to.

My fingers scratched lightly at Monroe's scalp as I leaned into him. All the while my gaze focused on Nick moving about just to taunt me.

"Oh, here it is." Nick opened one of the top drawers. "It was up here after all." He grinned our way, but that grin was meant for me.

He closed the drawer and undid one of his buttons from his shirt. My eyes rested on Nick's chest as I pursed my lips. That dark chest hair peeked out underneath, and I ran my fingers through Monroe's hair while imagining my fingers ruffling over Nick's chest. Well, now my mind had completely fallen into the gutter. Nick, you bad boy. The mental filing cabinets burst open their chains as more vivid images flitted around my mind. My breath quickened as racing hot thoughts flooded me. This was too much. Too, too much.

"You guys warm in here?" Nick asked nonchalantly as he walked back toward the desk and reclined as he sat back down.

"No," Monroe replied. "Seems okay to me."

I cleared my throat. "It's fine." My cheeks, however, completely disagreed.

I looked back at Monroe, tugging a bit on his hair. Monroe caught my eyes and a devilish grin formed on his lips. I bit my lip in response. I needed out of here and under him immediately.

"Dude, I think it's getting kinda late," he said, snapping the book closed. "I got quite a few pages transcribed though." Monroe's grin increased.

"Yeah." I turned to Nick, who was obviously holding back a grimace. "I think we're pretty much done for the night."

"Okay." Nick stood, closing the laptop a bit forcefully as he let out a breath. "Well, then thanks for your help."

"I'll come back soon to do more," I offered as I stood up. If I didn't leave now, I was going to do more than just books tonight.

"Yeah." He pushed his bangs out of his face. "You come back and… do that."

Swiftly, I packed my things. Why did he have to look so good? Dammit! Cautiously I moved over to the desk as Nick helped me with the computer. His fingers traced the small of my back while never deviating from packing with the other hand. Multi-tasker. Damn Geminis. I peeked up at Monroe, who wasn't paying attention as he stuffed the steno pad into my other bag. Nick's fingers traveled further down and I tensed.

"You ready to go?" Monroe asked as Nick's hand dropped to his side.

"Just about," I shakily replied, moving around the desk much to Nick's chagrin. Dangerous, so dangerous. What was he thinking? I looked up at Nick, who stared right back at me as I reached for my laptop bag. "I'll talk to you later." I started to say more, but it was best if I didn't.

Nick continued to stare, not replying. I did a one-eighty, sliding the bag on my shoulder. Monroe had the others and was waiting by the door.

"Goodnight, Nick," I called out, not looking back.

"See ya, man," Monroe added, curling his arm around me as we stepped out into the cool, night air. My breath stuck in my throat. This was utterly the worst idea ever.

Monroe's hand resumed where Nick's had left off as we walked toward my car. I found my keys and we tossed the equipment in the back seat. As soon as I closed the door, Monroe flipped me and kissed me hard, pressing me against the car.

"You were driving me crazy in there," he whispered out. "Between you and then Nick sex texting his woman, it was, like, getting a bit heady in the trailer."

"Is that what he was doing?" I acted innocent.

"Oh, yeah. Whatever he was typing must've been… Well, I don't wanna know, to be honest." He shook his head. "So what got you all aromatic?" He held my arms as he looked down at me. "I hope it wasn't due to some antiquated mating ritual you were reading," he chuckled.

"It was the Lysol," I retorted. "Fake citrus scents turn me on." Thank goodness I still had my wits about me, but my wits were running out.

"I can think of far better things to spark your senses." His lips took mine over. "I need to have you immediately," he growled.

"My place is closer. Let's go."

* * *

A/N: Whew! Okay, so Renée scraped by... barely.

We're stopping here, but there are more extremes headed your way. (Sorry.) We're going a bit darker, too, just fair warning. This story is labeled mature for a reason. LOL!

So, dear readers, still reading? Not yelling and cursing too much I hope. Just keep trusting the story...

Enjoy Grimm tonight at it's new day/time Tuesday 10pm EST

STAY TUNED!


	93. Chapter 93

**Chapter 93**

It started in the living room. I straddled Monroe on the couch, his hands cupping my bottom, pulling me in close. Feelings for Nick permeated down to my core, but I thrust them out. Loving them both was one thing, but separating was necessary when I was with one of them. Thinking of one while I was with the other wasn't fair. No... Until I made a choice it had to remain separate. I reached for Monroe's hair again, my fingers digging in as I worked on my thoughts.

"You're getting a little aggressive there," he breathed out. "Not that I mind it, but it's kinda unlike you."

I paused briefly. "I'm just…" The mental filing cabinets were empty.

"Just…?" Monroe followed while squeezing my bottom. "Horny?"

I bobbed my head. "Less talking, more this." I went back to his mouth while my hands continued to grip his wild, curly locks.

Somewhere in the midst of kissing and gripping, clothes became fewer and further between, piling up on the floor behind us.

"Bedroom," Monroe grunted, and in an effortless motion, he stood, carrying me in his arms as he moved across the living room.

As we crashed onto the bed, Monroe pounced on top of me, kissing down my chest, lingering on my breasts as I blindly fumbled my hand across my dresser.

He paused, glancing over at what I was searching for. "What are you doing?" he asked curiously.

"I need music," I replied, gripping the stereo remote and pressing a series of buttons until Donna Summer sang out.

"_Lookin' for some hot stuff baby this evenin'.__  
__I need some hot stuff baby tonight…"_

Monroe lifted his head "We're doing this to disco?" he practically whined out.

"Okay, maybe this will be more to your speed." I skimmed my thumb across the buttons as I kissed him.

"_You do something to me,__  
__Something that simply mystifies me.__  
__Tell me, why should it be,__  
__You have the power to hypnotize me?"_

"Cole Porter, really? Do I look that old?"

I grinned at him. "Look? No…"

"Not funny," he replied. "What else you got?"

I eyed him, sliding my free hand down his chest. "Can you handle something… different?"

Monroe squinted a bit. "Is it rap?"

"More like an infusion of techno and synthesizers." He made a sour face, but it quickly faded when I moved my hand down further. "Try it for me?"

"Well, when you put it that way…"

"Good." My thumb hit a few more buttons as the low, rhythmic notes of Depeche Mode's 'Corrupt' began.

I dropped the remote, letting the beat take me over. Monroe kissed me deeply as his tongue tangled with mine.

"_I could corrupt you in a heartbeat.__  
__You think you're so special.__  
__Think you're so sweet…"_

The heat rushed back through my body as the music continued. His teeth nipped lightly at my bottom lip between kisses, and I practically quivered.

"_What are you trying?__  
__Don't even tempt me.__  
__Soon you'll be crying,__  
__And wishing you dreamt me…"_

"This song is kinda… umm…" The red was intense in his eyes, dark and sinister, but then something else, too, like when the rope had come out.

"Sexy?" I breathed out and kissed down his neck as he loomed over me, a low growl forming. The music was doing what I'd hoped it would. The Blutbad needed to come out tonight.

"Well, it's… it's something all right."

"_You'd be calling out my name,__  
__When you need someone to blame…"_

"Just let the words take over, Monroe," I coaxed, pulling his head back down and kissing him again while I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"_I could corrupt you.__  
__It would be easy.__  
__Watching you suffer.__  
__Girl, it would please me…"_

He pulled my hands away from his neck, gliding them up over my head as his fingers tightened around my wrists. I moaned around his mouth, his kiss almost searing hot. When he was forceful like this it was intoxicating, like a drug. It was a high I never wanted to come down from. His touch cured me of any other thoughts. Right now it was just him and me.

"_But I wouldn't touch you,__  
__With my little finger.__  
__I know it would crush you.__  
__My memory would linger_..."

Monroe let go of my lips, still tingling from the heat. I tipped my head back to look up at his face; the devilish grin danced under his beard while the fire in his eyes had my sex pulsing madly.

"What are you trying to insinuate with this song exactly?" he asked, near panting as he held me tighter on the bed, sliding my arms up a bit more.

"What do you think?" I replied coyly as I bit my lip. "What are the lyrics saying, Monroe?"

He shook his head, eyes glinting at me. "They're saying a helluva lot."

"Then go with it," I simply replied.

"_You'd be crying out in pain,__  
__Begging me to play my games…"_

His mouth hungrily descended on my breasts, tongue and teeth alternating on each nipple as I arched up in reply. Oh, he was going with it, and I was in ecstasy.

"Keep your arms over your head," he grunted as he let go. "Don't you dare move them."

My breath quickened and I nodded silently while he watched. I laced my fingers together, holding them tight.

A smirk formed on his lips. "Good girl." He ran the flat of his tongue between my breasts, drawing a line up to my neck while his hand moved between my thighs, thumb making contact.

My hips reactively rocked against him while my fingers tightly knotted together, forcing myself to keep my hands still. "Oh, fu…" I couldn't even get the word out as I gasped.

"Not easy is it?" he growled in response. "You're doing well though." His mouth met my neck, pressing against my pulse with his tongue. "Let's see if I can make that heart pound even faster," he taunted as he stroked his thumb more rapidly.

My back arched reactively, easily jolting my heartbeat up two-fold. I sucked in a sharp breath, twisting the sheets in my hands.

His tongue pressed into my neck again as he continued. "There we go, now it's pumping," he said against my throat. "Tell me you want more."

"I…" I tried to swallow to speak. "I want more."

"Good."

"_I could corrupt you.__  
__It would be ugly.__  
__They could sedate you,__  
__But what good would drugs be?"_

Dizziness took over as Monroe's two fingers teasingly dipped in while his thumb kept moving.

"You're so wet," he said. "So fucking wet." His lips and tongue traced over my neck. I was gonna pass out if he kept up. "Breathe, Renée," Monroe encouraged as his thumb stopped. "Don't forget to breathe."

I let out the breath I'd been holding. "Holy hell," I managed to say as he added his thumb back. His tongue teased my throat as he circled it rhythmically in time with the music. His teeth replaced his tongue, grazing my neck. I cried out something unintelligible, reaching for the pillow above me, and gripping it tightly to keep from moving. "Can I please… use my hands?" I begged. All I wanted to do was drag him down on top of me.

Monroe clicked his tongue. "Can you?" he asked with a smirk.

Was I getting grammatically reprimanded? Holy hell…

"_May_ I…" I breathed out, "…use my hands?" I corrected.

"No, you _may_ not," he promptly replied. "But you _can _spread your legs." I slid my legs wider apart, and he added a third finger. I moaned out as he pressed in deep. "Good." Monroe kissed my neck softly. "I like that. Now don't move them."

"_But I wouldn't touch you.__  
__Put my hands on your hips.__  
__It would be too much to,__  
__Place my lips on your lips…"_

"Do whatever you want to me," I moaned again, craning my neck further. "Just don't tease me anymore." Guilt was taking over, and if he wanted to bite me then he could tonight. Right now I'd do whatever he asked.

He sucked in his breath. "Don't say that," he growled against my neck "You can't say those kinda things to me."

I looked up at him. "But I want you to."

He stopped briefly, smoldering, red eyes capturing mine as his woge pressed against his skin. "You don't know what you're asking for."

"Does that mean something for Blutbaden, too?"

"No, it just means something to me, and it's not..." He paused, backing away slowly and removing his hand. "Maybe we oughta just stop tonight."

"Fine. I won't say it, but don't stop." His intensity was what I needed. Being absorbed completely with him tonight would remove all this guilt. "Please?"

He hovered over me, both hands pressed firmly into the mattress. "Probably not a good idea to continue," he replied, seeming deflated.

"_You'd be calling out my name.__  
__Begging me to play my games…"_

"Monroe, don't leave me hanging." My eyes remained locked with his. "Please, tell me what you want me to do."

He growled as his eyes ignited like fire at my words, but he bit back his reply.

"Isn't this what you want?" I asked as the song ended.

"Well, yeah," he replied matter-of-factly. "But, man, that song, and you saying that, and…" he trailed off again, confliction etched on his face.

"We aren't stopping." I broke the rules and reached for his arms, leaning up to kiss him. "I need you tonight."

As we continued to kiss, I rolled him over, taking control. He tried to sit up, but I pushed him onto his back and straddled him. If he wouldn't take over then I would. Monroe and I had run through many positions, but oddly enough I'd never been on top. I'd always allowed him to assume that role, but tonight I'd just have to take over. Stopping wasn't an option. I picked up my remote, pressing buttons until Christina Aguilera's 'Not Myself Tonight' blared through the speakers. I'd just control the music, too.

"_You know tonight,__  
__I'm feeling a little out of control.__  
__Is this me?__  
__You wanna get crazy?__  
__'Cause I don't give a…"_

I leaned over him while pinning his arms over his head. "If you won't, then I'm gonna do whatever I want."

"Oh, really?" He jerked a smile. "You think you can dominate?" A mocking grin formed on his lips as he looked up at me.

My surge of reckless force took hold, and I squeezed his forearms. "You gonna stop me?"

I kissed him hard before he could retort. He tried to reach for me, but I held his arms firm. Surprisingly it was working, or at least he was letting me think so. The latter was probably more accurate.

"_I'm out of character.__  
__I'm in rare form.__  
__If you really knew me,__  
__You'd know it's not the norm…"_

Leaning down, I kissed across his chest and up to his neck. I nibbled lightly on his ear as I said, "I have no problem biting. Can you handle that?"

He grunted then replied, "You better be ready for what comes next then."

"I'll take my chances," I responded as my teeth hit his neck.

"'_Cause I'm doing things that I normally won't do.__  
__The old me's gone.__  
__I feel brand new.__  
__And if you don't like it, fuck you_…"

Biting wasn't my forte, and honestly it felt awkward. Nibbling was fine and dandy, but to show him I meant what I'd said, I couldn't hold back. So I bit harder than usual. The response was unlike what I'd expected as he growled thunderously, his length hardening against me. As soon as I ran my tongue across where I'd bitten, his hips thrust up while he tried to jerk away from my grasp. I pushed hard against my own reckless woge, cementing his arms down on the mattress.

"_I'm not myself tonight.__  
__Tonight I'm not the same girl..."_

Christina repeated the lyrics over and over. I pivoted my hips and maneuvered him inside me as he let out a low groan. I moved slow and steady. Oh my, I missed being on top and this was new for us. New was good.

"You're definitely not the same girl," Monroe grunted, quoting the song. "But I kinda like this version."

"You ain't seen nothing yet," I replied.

As I moved faster I let his arms go. "Now you keep your arms up there," I ordered. Leaning back, I planted my hands on his thighs, arching my spine to feel each thrust until I was nearly out of breath.

Monroe's hands moved across my stomach then slid up my breasts, pinching my hardened nipples as waves of warmth crashed over me.

"Hey, I said keep your arms up," I moaned out. "You're cheating."

"Come on, Renée. You know I don't play fair," he taunted.

I was too high on him to object. As the music ended, my first orgasm rolled forth. I pressed my hips down hard as I cried out, taking him in deeper. He groaned along with my release, teasing my nipples as I tightened my grip on his thighs, making it last as long as possible.

"Damn, you feel so good," Monroe managed to say as my head rolled back. I nearly collapsed against him but my woge wouldn't allow it to be over just yet.

Monroe attempted to pull me down, but another reckless surge took over. Reaching for my remote, and with a flick of my wrist, Willa Ford began to sing.

"_I wanna be bad.__  
__You make bad look so good.__  
__I got things on my mind,__  
__I never thought I would..."_

"Stay," I said in a commanding tone as I looked into his eyes.

"Don't start that." He reached for my arms, but I moved before he could take hold.

"I said stay," I repeated with a smirk, rocking back as I slid him out then thrust back down, leaning forward. My tongue met his chest and I kissed upward, squeezing his sex deep inside me, pulsing as I tightened around him.

"_I- I wanna be bad.__  
__You make bad feel so good.__  
__I'm losing all my cool.__  
__I'm about to break the rules.__  
__I-I wanna be bad…"_

"Fuck," he breathed out. "You keep that up and this is ride is gonna be over quick."

"I'm not ready to be done with you yet," I replied, stopping briefly to capture his gaze. "Rein it in and don't disappoint me."

"Yes, Ma'am," he almost chuckled his reply.

My mouth resumed back to his chest, nipping lightly at one of his nipples. I moved up to his neck as the scruff of his beard raked against my lips. I nipped a bit more and he bucked against me, emitting another growl. His arms wrapped around my back, attempting to roll me again, but I locked my legs, keeping him under me. I nipped a bit harder as another growl came out.

"You gotta stop that." His voice was ragged and husky. "I can't hold back."

"Then don't," my woge replied matter-of-factly.

"_What's up?__  
__Tell me what to do, how to be, teach me,__  
__All your rules from A to Z…"_

I rocked against his sex, trailing my mouth up to his lips as his grip on me tightened. His woge was boiling under the surface as he fought with himself.

I gripped his shoulders until he let go of me. Rearing back, I pinned his arms again. Tufts of hair sprouted, but he forced it in as the skin settled.

"Let it out," I coaxed, drawing back my hips and then thrusting down hard once more.

"Not… tonight," he rasped.

My thighs clenched as I moved more swiftly. The next orgasm built up inside me, and I released his arms to remain upright, shutting my eyes tightly. Monroe's hands relished in their release and gripped me as he controlled my rhythm. The world spun as I came undone. I cried out, my head light and airy as the music ended. I almost howled in spite of myself.

As soon as I opened my eyes, all at once Monroe took over, flipping me over to my stomach.

Leaning against my back, his throaty breath whispered into my ear, "Seems you let your guard down."

"That was a bit underhanded," I managed to reply as I surrendered and let him take over. Not that I minded, because I could barely keep conscious.

"Haven't you learned anything?" The question was obviously rhetorical as his devilish grin came out in his voice.

Before I could retort, he grasped my hips, lifting me up and plunging back in deep as he growled. Torrents of heat pulsed within me as I almost slid forward on the bed. Monroe guided my body back into position, rocking his hips as he buried himself inside me. With rapid succession, another surge hit me, and I managed to regain my stance.

His hands wrapped around my hair while he thrust in harder. "My turn to dominate." A dark tone lurked in his voice. "And no more rap music," he added insistently as he whacked my bottom once with my… remote? The black remote flew past me and landed on the carpet.

"Yes, Sir," I replied quickly as the sting lingered a bit. Holy fuck, now he was smacking my behind? Maybe he'd used whips before, too. Perhaps he really had a dungeon after all.

"That's better." While his chest pressed down against my back, he kissed my shoulder, adding a few gentle nips. "Tell me that you wanna please me."

My breath caught up in my throat. Really? Seriously?

"Tell me," he repeated, "It's not wise to make me ask twice."

"I wanna please you." I forced out the words, my voice taking on a sexy, submissive lilt. If I was gonna play his game, I'd go all the way.

"Good girl." He growled deeply at my words. "You're pleasing me well," he murmured, dragging his tongue over my shoulder. Tilting my head to the side by my hair like it was his own personal leash, he drew his tongue along my neck. "So very well…" he whispered once he reached my ear. With a quick yank, he pulled my hair taut, craning my neck back. "Now what am I gonna do with you?"

"Anything," my woge chimed in. "Do whatever you want to me, Monroe."

He growled as the vibrations rolled down through my core. "You keep saying that and I will." His voice was all deep and thick like black tar as he slid out of me, rubbing his length against my bottom. "But if I do, then it's gonna hurt…Long and agonizing," he sneered, gripping me tighter. "I can dole out pain in ways you'd never be able to fathom in that sweet, little head of yours."

He paused as he let the words sink in, and boy were they sinking like the Titanic. Hurt? Pain? My head swirled with outrageous, demented thoughts. Fuck, fuck, fuck… This was beyond Mr. Wolf. Who the fuck was he?

He bent down, hot breath in my ear. "You want corruption?" he growled. "That word doesn't even begin to describe all the amoral things I want to do to you right now, and lemme tell ya, it'll take longer than three days for you to heal after I'm done." A finger slid between the cheeks of my bottom with the edge of a sharp claw resting where no man had gone before. "I can be endlessly rapacious, Renée."

A small whimper escaped me as I jerked reactively. He wouldn't, would he? I couldn't breathe as every muscle in my body tensed, frozen in place while he kept a firm grasp on my hair and his claw positioned... there. I was gonna pass out. I was gonna faint, and he was gonna… Oh, God.

"So tell me," Monroe, or whoever the fuck he was tonight, continued. "You want me to do whatever I want to you? Just say the words and we'll begin."

My mouth opened to speak, but I couldn't form even a syllable. Momentous waves of fear pulverized me to the breaking point.

He let out a snort. "That's what I thought." He released my hair, brushing it off to the side as he sat back up and the claw vanished. "Now breathe before you fall over."

As if his words were what I needed, I sucked in a hard breath, almost coughing as my head dipped forward. I leaned down on my forearms, near dizzy. What the fuck!? Was he trying to scare the shit out me? Well, if he was, then it worked.

His fingers traced gently up and down my spine as I found my way back to baseline. "That fear you're feeling… Pouring off you, filling your bedroom… Remember that feeling before you offer yourself again." He rubbed my back soothingly as hot tears stung behind my eyes, but I fought against them. My woge dared me to cry. "Those were just words. I didn't even physically do anything, and you're reacting like this. You can't handle me doing whatever I want. Am I clear?"

My body shook, but I tried to still myself. "Crystal." The previous guilt was completely gone now.

Once my breathing regulated, Monroe placed his hands on my sides, hoisting me back up on my hands and knees.

"We're still… going?" I rasped out. Was he nuts?

"Yeah," he replied uncouthly as he rammed back inside me. "I'm not done with you yet."

I yelped in spite of myself at his powerful thrust. My woge was completely enflamed at his demeanor. Really? This was how we were playing? All at once Monroe increased his speed. Keeping up with him was proving more difficult as I gripped the sheets. He pulled me in close to him, doing most of the work.

Suddenly he wrenched me upward, never losing his pace. I gasped as his sweaty chest pressed against my spine, his growls rumbling through me. My head tipped back while his large hands cupped my breasts, his fingers plucking at my nipples until I could barely breathe as I fought against the pleasure. After what he'd said I didn't want to enjoy this.

One hand twisted back in my hair, exposing my neck as his other banded around me, gyrating my hips up and down along his thickness, filling me completely. His mouth burned against my neck, panting in hot bursts of heat as he hovered, then he nipped lightly in a line up to my ear.

"Wrap your arms around my neck," he told me.

"No," I replied defiantly.

"Hold on to me, Renée," Monroe ordered. "And don't let go."

Grudgingly, I did as he asked. Sliding my arms up, I laced my fingers together behind his neck and braced against him. His hand slid slowly down my stomach as my breath quickened.

My mind tried to hold back, but my body became acquiescent to his touch. His fingers dipped south between my legs, thrusting faster as he went. The combination did me in and I clenched against him.

"Give in," he coaxed. "All the way."

"Mon…roe…" His name staggered out of me. "St…op…" My mind attempted to deny the waves of pleasure, but instincts overshadowed its refusal. Helpless against every rampant hormone in my body igniting, I submitted completely. My vision blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors as I struggled to cling to his neck while he continued with his fingers.

"Hold on," Monroe said as I cried out in rapture for what seemed like forever.

Finally I slumped forward, my hands slipping off him as the colors faded to gray.

Monroe caught me before I could fall, pulling me back toward him. "Can't take it, huh?" he asked with a smirk in his voice.

I leaned my head back against his chest, trying to find my voice. "I can…" was all I managed to say.

Monroe still hadn't come, and I was near spent, but my woge wasn't satisfied that I'd yielded to him. Still burning at his arrogance, it rushed through me with a monumental kick.

"So you give up?"

My woge fumed at his question. Give up? Never.

"I don't… give up," I returned.

He chuckled through his growl. "Admit defeat and it'll be over."

All at once I rolled, catching him off guard. He tried to leap up, but I knocked him back on the bed, resuming the top position again.

"Don't let your guard down." My woge said with a grin, taking hold of his arms.

"Now who's being underhanded?" he hissed out between breaths as the sweat dripped off him.

With my own smugness I replied, "I learn from the best."

My hips pivoted, taking him back inside me. He tensed against my grasp as he tried to free his arms. I clutched tighter, my nails digging in until he growled. His eyes flared crimson, but he didn't seem too opposed to the pain. Anchoring my knees into the bed, I forced his hips down as I moved rhythmically. I was on fire as my woge swelled inside triumphantly, keeping me conscious. Sliding my hands up his shoulders, I pressed in as he bucked against me.

"Fuck, Renée," he groaned, which only encouraged me to move faster as he throbbed inside me. "Oh, fuck… Don't stop."

"Come for me," I cried out, my body shaking on the verge of another climax. One more and I'd faint for sure. Monroe roared, his release nearly jolting me off the bed. I clung to his arms as he jerked his head up, my breath coming and going in small bursts while my woge forced me to push forward. His growl reverberated through my body, sending vibrations between my legs, triggering a victorious orgasm that my recklessness delighted in.

When our bodies had enough, I collapsed off to the side of the bed, drenched and satisfied as my woge bid me adieu. Monroe lay back, and I closed my eyes as darkness threatened to take me over, my body still shaking from the intensity. Tears pressed at my eyes, begging for their own release.

Monroe brushed my hair off my face and I peeked out of heavy lidded eyes to his amused grin. "Well, that was different," he said as he scooted closer beside me, propping himself up on his elbow.

"Mm-hmm," I drawled out. "Real enlightening." My head was still swimming with lingering fear and rage, but I didn't have enough energy to act on them anymore.

"Yeah. I'll say." He combed his fingers through his damp hair. "You never cease to surprise me."

"The same could be said of you." This was the first surprise of Monroe's I'd ever hated.

Monroe planted a kiss on my moist forehead. A small whimper came from him as his thumb brushed under my eye, wiping away the one tear that had managed to break free. I closed my eyes before any others got the same idea.

The shaking finally subsided, my breathing slowed, and my heart leveled out. Well, I'd accomplished what I'd aimed to do; for the time being I'd maintained separation, and Nick Burkhardt had remained out of my head. But after what had happened tonight, was that such a good thing?

Thinking became difficult, and my mind was ready to shut off as the darkness took over.

* * *

A/N: Okay, you can uncover your eyes now. Are you still with me? Your author has been in a dark place, folks. I try not to allow my outside thoughts to wreck with the writing, but, ya know, sometimes it just seeps through, and you get something like this. I may (or may not) write a Monroe POV to explain this better. Until now, trust the characters, the story, the extremes, and stay with me on this strange journey.

On a side note, music in this chapter played a big part on this one. I literally listened to Depeché Mode on repeat as I wrote most of this. Never heard "Corrupt"? I recommend you take a listen on YouTube. Might help in understanding the vibe on this one, too.

4 more chapters today. Trying to see if I can get the complete story posted before Grimm airs again next Tuesday. It's a lofty goal, but maybe I'll make it. Wish me luck!


	94. Chapter 94

A/N: It's still rated M for Mature...

* * *

**Chapter 94**

"I'm glad you came back," Nick said as he held me in his arms.

"I couldn't stay away for long." My fingers traced the cleft in his chin. "I'm sorry it's so late."

"I would've stayed here all night if I had to."

My hands found their way into Nick's dark hair, pulling him in closer toward my mouth. His kiss sent chills through me. I parted my lips as his tongue met mine. The chills ceased as the warmth of his mouth and his body increased the heat elsewhere. That heat built inside me as I managed to let go of his mouth and move my lips down his face to the cleft in his chin and then down his neck.

"I've never wanted someone as much as I want you," he said, taking off my blouse.

"God, Nick," I breathed out. "I want you."

With eager fingers I undid the buttons on his dress shirt, sliding the whole thing off his shoulders and throwing it near the desk. Nick undid my bra, tossing it behind him near the weapons cabinet.

Laying me down on the trailer bed, he ran his tongue over one nipple, and I let out a moan. Nick leaned in closer, trailing kisses down my body. My back arched while his kisses floated down further. As my pleasure grew, another mouth teased at my nipple. My eyes shot up to Monroe, swirling his tongue around and around.

"What about me?" he stopped and asked. "Do you want me?"

"Of course I want you, too," I moaned out.

He bit down gently, cupping my breast as I gasped in a sharp breath.

"She seems to like that," Nick commented, his eyes locked on mine while removing my skirt as Monroe continued. "I think she'll like this more." His fingers dipped under my panties, stroking as my hips rose off the bed.

"No, this is what she likes." Monroe moved up to my neck, nipping and biting against my sweet spot until I let out another hard moan.

I pulled Monroe toward me, pressing my lips against his mouth. His hands moved back to my breasts as Nick kissed up my thighs, sliding his fingers in and out. Oh, God… Too much pleasure.

Somewhere in the trailer the Beatles' 'I Want You' began its bluesy riff.

"_I want you. I want you so bad…"_

Monroe leaned back and mouthed the words with a sexy grin.

"_I want you. I want you so bad…"_

With a sexy smirk, Nick sat up and mouthed the words, too.

"_It's driving me mad. It's driving me mad…"_

My eyes widened as both men continued to lip-sync the next line like some lust-driven musical.

The song played on as Nick shifted off my panties and Monroe went back to my breasts. I gripped the covers on the trailer bed, knotting them with my fists as Nick slid his tongue between my legs while Monroe's tongue alternately flicked at my nipples. Their hands gripped my body, keeping me from moving away from their hot, sexy mouths.

Nick recessed his tongue briefly to use his thumb. "So, which one of us do you want?"

"Which one of us?" Monroe echoed, pinching and rolling my nipples between his fingers.

"I want you both," I murmured between my gasps. "Both…"

"_She's so… heavy…"_

The Beatles sang the chorus as my body sank into bliss. My skin was on fire as Monroe and Nick resumed stroking and fondling my body… I could barely breathe. Too wonderful… too…

"Renée," Monroe murmured as he moved up to my neck. "Renée."

I let out another moan. "Oh, Monroe."

"Renée!" A sharp tug at my shoulder jolted my eyes open. "Renée, you were having a nightmare maybe, I think?" Monroe hovered over me, looking concerned as my eyes blinked open. "You okay?"

I shook myself and held a hand to my chest, which was beating wildly. "Yeah, just a dream."

"You were crying out. What was going on in that head of yours?" he asked as he ran his hand across my forehead. "Dude, you're all, umm… dewy... again."

I was 'dewy' in other places, too.

"Sorry. It was just… really vivid." I looked down and peeked under the throw blanket. Still naked. Hmm... "Did I pass out after we…?"

"Yeah, and rather fast, too," he chuckled. "I just let you sleep while I watched some TV." Monroe's nose twitched. "Okay, so maybe that wasn't a nightmare you were having after all," he grinned. "You wanna share? Or was it some hunky movie star you were dreaming about?"

"No, it wasn't a movie star," I replied quickly. Just a threesome with you and your best friend. I managed to sit up. Wow, I was off balance. "I'm going to take a shower."

"So, not gonna share, huh?"

I looked over my shoulder at Monroe, who was leaning back on the bed with his hands behind his head. "You were in it." I winked at him and then turned back and stood up. It wasn't a complete lie. "I'll be back shortly."

"Want me to join you?" Monroe asked as I opened the bathroom door.

"Nah, I can manage," I replied, humming the Beatles' song as I closed the door behind me.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. God, what the hell was I doing? Even after tonight with Monroe, I still loved him. But Nick… Oh my, I loved him, too. Nick was definitely less complicated. But to love them both… To want them both… Was that wrong? They've always said you can't have your cake and eat it, too. Well, I had two delicious cakes and the slices just kept on coming.

* * *

A/N: More vivid dreams for Renée, huh? So your author has reached that pivotal fan-fiction point and has managed to work in her first threesome into a story. But it wasn't real, so... (;

Another music inspired writing. I played the Beatles' "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" on a loop as the words flowed. You know the drill. YouTube it.

**Edit:** I added another Monroe's POV chapter that follows both chapters 93 & 94. The Chapter is called "After the Corruption Sang its Song" It starts after Renée passes out from sex. More insight into Monroe's thoughts, feelings, etc... (Or as one reader told me, his creepiness. I dunno… lol) Go check it out. (:

Short chapter, but it served its purpose. On we go!


	95. Chapter 95

**Chapter 95**

The next day was a struggle to get through work. Exhaustion tugged at me, mind, body, and soul. Between being screwed nine ways from Sunday both in my dreams and in reality, and then a vigorous Pilates workout with Monroe before work this morning, it was a miracle I was sitting upright. I'd survived on sheer willpower throughout the day, since the two double espressos from Starbucks I'd succumbed to weren't cutting it at all.

This morning when I'd taken Monroe home, we had discussed our schedules and plans for tonight. The one thing we failed to discuss was last night. He'd made no mention of his Mr. Hyde on steroids moment, and I didn't bring up my Christina Aguilera one, either. We both had acted like nothing had happened. Maybe it made choosing easier. I shook my head. The less I thought about it, the better.

It was time for lunch, and I was more than glad to step away from my desk. My focus was gone today, absolutely gone. Fortunately my next training wasn't for a few hours. I could take a long lunch today. A grin spread across my face as I headed to my car and took a drive to the Portland police station. I needed to see Nick. After last night, a big apology was in order. Oh, but he didn't want anyone to know we knew each other… And now that we were _really_ getting to know each other, it put a whole new spin on things. No, I needed to see him. Maybe he'd forgive me for last night and for visiting his work, too.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

I pulled in to the parking area. Nick's Toyota was sitting in the 'official use only' lot across the way. Good, he was here. I smoothed out my hair and did a quick check on my make-up in the visor. I reached into my bag and added just a hint of lip gloss. There, much better.

I made my way up to the building, dodging the occasional passersby as I went. Steadily, I crept up the stairs like I was a criminal being in here. As I was heading up, Sergeant Jokes-a-Lot was heading down. My breath caught in my throat as I turned my head and he breezed past me. I held my hand to my chest as I continued up the stairs. That was close.

Edging around the corner of the lobby, I spotted Nick at his desk. He was typing away at the computer while making notes here and there in a folder beside him. God, he looked good today. Fortunately Detective Swagger wasn't in sight and the other officers and suits seemed to be engaged in their own work, taking phone calls and sipping on burnt smelling coffee. I stepped further out so Nick would take notice.

His eyes met mine, and that sexy, toothy grin of his appeared. He shot up from his seat and came toward me. "What are you doing here?" he asked as we circled back into the empty lobby.

"I had to see you, I'm sorry, and I know you don't want anyone to know we..."

Nick kissed me hard before I could say any more. He let go of my lips sooner than I would've liked. "I'm glad to see you."

"You, too." The heat of his body warmed me straight through my blouse as we both leaned against the wall of the lobby.

"Last night can't happen again," he whispered. "That whole thing drove me crazy."

"I'm sorry." Apparently I'd driven both men crazy that night. I chewed at my lip as I looked into his blue-green eyes. "Will you join me for lunch, please?" I asked with a need in my voice I even surprised myself with.

"It's funny that you came here. I was tempted to go to your work today."

Come to my work? I hadn't told him where I worked.

"How would you've found me?"

"Come on, Renée. I'm a detective." He grinned at me. "You don't think I have everything here to find out where one person works?" His grin was infectious, and I had to grin back at his skills.

"Oh, Detective. You're so crafty," I said. "So lunch... Come with me?"

"Yeah, let me just grab my jacket," he replied quickly. "Don't move from this spot."

I nodded eagerly. "Yes, Detective Sexy."

His eyes twinkled with an amusement at his nickname. "I like that. I'll be right back."

He rounded the corner, and I leaned fully against the wall, knocking my head back. It was like someone had filled it with helium. I hadn't been this giddy in a while. This was such a great decision. Lunch with Nick would give me enough of a fix so I could concentrate on my trainings later this afternoon.

Nick returned, wearing his black jacket. He took my arm as we walked down the beige hallway to the stairs. Nick darted his head back and forth before pulling me into another kiss, tipping my chin up with his finger. It was a longer kiss, a more... Oh, my head was so light. I felt eyes on me, and I moved away from Nick's lips. Captain Debonair was standing off in the distance. He smiled and walked off.

"Holy hell!" I exclaimed in a whisper. "We gotta go!"

"What's wrong?"

"Your captain... He saw us!" I clasped a hand to my mouth. Oh, this was bad. So incredibly bad.

Nick darted his head behind us. "Are you sure it was him?"

"Yes, it was him." I sighed as I tugged on his arm. "Let's just go before anyone else sees us."

We raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Rushing out of the precinct, we headed toward the parking area. Nick pulled out his keys, unlocking his Toyota.

I opened the passenger door. "I really hate sneaking around like this."

"We won't have to sneak around for long." Nick assured me as we both got inside. "I don't want to hide someone as beautiful as you are." I melted inside the car. He took my hand and he started the ignition.

"What you did last night… touching me, teasing me. It was so dangerous," I said as I buckled up. "Monroe picked up on that. The scent was all over us. If you hadn't been texting, he would've figured it all out."

"I couldn't help it, Renée. All I wanted to do was touch you. Monroe can't come back to the trailer," he said adamantly as he pulled out onto the road. "Trying to cover up what we're doing is hard enough already." He turned to look at me. "Watching you two, together… That was unbearable."

"I know, and I'm sorry." I sighed, knotting my fingers together in my lap. "But he can't be banished completely. I tried to dissuade him from coming with me last night, and it was useless. He'll be suspicious if I try again."

"Well, how do you expect us to be together if he keeps coming with you?" Nick questioned. "You think he's gonna keep translating German if I've got you on top of the desk, and my mouth is…"

"No," I cut in. Thoughts of last night's dream marathoned through my mind. "But he enjoys the Grimm work."

"And I'm sure he enjoyed himself after you guys left, too," he mumbled.

That was an understatement.

"Oh, like you and Juliette are being chaste?" I snapped back.

Nick scowled, shaking his head. "At least we're not in each others' laps right in front of you."

"Thank goodness." I sighed. "But if he knows we're at the trailer, then he's gonna wanna go with me."

"Then don't tell him."

"That'll just turn into a mess. I can't lie to him. I mean, I'm already lying to him, but…" I held back a few tears as my stomach knotted as tightly as my fingers.

"Maybe I could go to your house, instead."

"You can't do that," I replied quickly. "I've been spraying that wolfsbane all over the place already. If you come over, there's no way I can completely mask your scent, and he'll want to know why you were at my house. Crap, trying to weave that kind of lie would be an even bigger mess. At least he knows I come over to the trailer."

"Then that settles it." Nick ran a hand through his hair. "He can't come back over. We're not having a repeat of last night."

"He's still a part of my life, Nick, just like Juliette is still a part of yours. We both know that you and I aren't at a point yet where we're about to dump our significant others." I paused, but then added. "Are we?"

Nick tightened his grip on his steering wheel as he turned left onto Northwest Front Avenue. "No. I still love her, and you obviously still love Monroe."

"So what are we gonna do?"

He shrugged as he replied, "All this is confusing." He reached for my hand. "Maybe it'll take some time to figure out what we want, but right now I'm here with you. When you poked your head around the corner at the statio, it was the happiest I'd been all day."

I beamed at him. "Me, too." I let go of his hand as my fingers moved up to his shoulder and then into his hair. "So what would you like for lunch?" I managed to get out. The giddiness was surrounding my voice.

"I just want to go somewhere where we can be alone."

I glanced over at Nick, whose blue-green eyes were fixed my way. "Sounds delicious."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

We drove far up to the North end of town. No one knew us in North Portland. Aerosmith was playing 'Crazy' on the radio, and I hummed along.

"I never cared for Aerosmith," said Nick.

"What's wrong with Aerosmith?" I turned the volume down. "They're an amazing group."

"That lead singer guy. He's just a bit overzealous."

"Well, Steven Tyler is a Regenbogenvogel. They usually are."

Nick straightened in his seat. "A Regen… what?"

"A Regenbogenvogel. A peacock-like creature."

Nick's eyes widened as I glanced over. "Okay, that would explain a lot."

I changed the station as The Darkness' 'I Believe in a Thing Called Love" played through the Toyota.

_"Can't explain all the feelings that you're making me feel._  
_My heart's in overdrive, and you're behind the steering wheel._

_I believe in a thing called love._  
_Just listen to the rhythm of my heart._  
_There's a chance we could make it now._  
_We'll be rocking 'til the sun goes down._  
_I believe in a thing called love._  
_Ooh!"_

Oh, I believed in love. I just believed in it way too much. But did I love to easily? Yeah, guilty as charged.

"Are these guys Wesen, too?" Nick chuckled, snapping me back to present.

"Not that I know of." I turned to face him. "So now that you can see, you need to re-watch a few movies and music videos. It's amazing how many Wesen are in show business, although most are good about keeping their woge hidden on screen. Well, except for Jim Carrey. That baboon spends more time woged out than he does in human form."

"Jim Carrey is a…?" Nick's eyes grew wide.

"Oh, you have so much to still learn." I laughed. "There are some I didn't even know about until Monroe told me." I held in my breath at his name. Monroe.

As Nick continued to drive, we talked more about celebrity Wesen. Nick seemed enthralled. I had to admit it was fun to describe all this to someone who'd never seen it.

"Ooh, we could watch _The Maltese Falcon_ at the trailer tonight. Peter Lorre has a brief woge into a Scharfblicke when Humphrey Bogart slaps him."

"Is that the old movie about the lost bird?"

"A _statue_ of a bird, yes."

"It's a statue? I always thought it was about someone's missing pet."

I laughed, but then Nick wasn't. Oh, God, he wasn't joking. I tilted my head. "You _have_ seen it, right?"

Nick shook his head. "Not really."

"It's one of the greatest detective movies out there. You're a detective. How could you not have seen it?" Not only had Nick skipped cop shows, classic detective films were apparently not something he watched, either.

"I guess I never got around to it."

"Well, you and I are gonna watch some Sam Spade tonight, Detective Sexy."

"Before _The Maltese Falcon_?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes as I sighed.

* * *

A/N: So Renée and Nick got caught by Renard. Yikes!

They might be in "Love," but here we still see a bit of that typical angst coming back out between them. It's not entirely gone.

Some of you might take the time to look it up, others may not, so I'll just save you time. Regenbogenvogel translates (loosely) to rainbow bird. My ha-ha to the NBC peacock. Yes, I think Steven Tyler is fantastic, and colorful, and proud as a peacock. Peter Lorre's eyes already look like Owl eyes, and well Jim Carrey? Do I really have to explain it? LOL!

2 chapters to go!

**UPDATE:** I submitted a pic of a Regenbogenvogel to the NBCGrimm Twitter page and they retweeted it. I thought that was kinda cool. (:


	96. Chapter 96

**Chapter 96**

Lunch was spent in a remote little Chinese restaurant away from the road. Nick and I both relaxed, surrounded by strangers who had no clue we were horrible, adulterous people dining on sesame chicken and tofu stir fry respectively.

Conversation flowed like the hot tea in my cup. We openly held hands while talking and eating.

"My dad would be smirking right now at me if he were around," I said with a chuckle.

He took a drink of his soda. "Why's that?"

"Well, he was constantly trying to talk me out of dating Jack and find a nice cop instead."

"Really?" Nick laughed. "Nice to know he might've approved of me."

"He held a high regard for law enforcement, since he worked for the DA in Louisville," I said while Nick popped a large piece of chicken into his mouth. "I had a few dates with the captain's son, who was a highway patrolman. The guy was a real jerk, so it was a short-lived romance. But if I had brought home a detective... Well, my dad would've been calling you 'son' and inviting you on group fishing trips with his work buddies in a heartbeat."

"I would've liked that. Well, maybe not since what we found out about your dad." Nick grimaced slightly, setting his chopsticks down. "So, what did he do for the DA?"

"He was an EADA. When I was younger I wanted to follow in his footsteps, but he dissuaded me from exploring that line of work. Maybe it was because of what he did on the side with... everything else." I cast my head down.

"You would've been good at detective work," Nick replied, and I lifted my head to see his grin. "You impressed me with the art theft case."

"Really?" I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. "You seemed more pissed off than impressed," I noted with a small grin.

Nick leaned his arms on the table. "Well, I'm not used to having someone best me at solving crimes."

"I'm just good at puzzles, but I'm more of an armchair detective than a real one," I humbly reasoned. "Solving that case was just following the trail of clues. If I hadn't met Lydia a few times, I probably wouldn't have figured it all out."

"Your dad was right." Nick's sexy, toothy grin spread over his face. "You really are smarter than you know."

"Maybe I can help you again sometime." I took a sip of tea from my cup. "If you'll let me."

"As long as it doesn't put you in the line of fire again, who knows."

"I'm glad we found each other," I said. "Even if we don't know what this is yet..."

"You know, I just realized we haven't actually been on a real date," said Nick with a grin as he bit into his egg roll.

"Yeah, I suppose we haven't." I picked at my meal with my chopsticks. "We're kind of doing this a bit backwards."

"We'll just make this our first one," Nick surmised. "I'll even pay."

"Okay, big spender." I grinned at him. "Thanks."

"Too bad we don't have more time today," Nick said as he glanced at his watch. "Maybe we could go out someplace… sometime."

I nodded. "We could try." How we'd manage to find a place where no one would see us was concerning. Lunch across town was one thing, but what if Nick ran into one of Juliette friends? That would be tragic.

The waitress came by with the ticket and two fortune cookies on the receipt tray.

I reach for both cookies, mixing them up, and then held both out to Nick. "Choose your fate," I grinned.

"You're big on this whole fate thing," he chuckled, choosing the cookie on the right.

"Sure am." I nodded. "Fate and karma are as real as all the other things you've read." I gave him a knowing look as I popped open the wrapper on mine. Snapping my cookie in half, I slid out the white paper as I asked the universe what I should do about love.

***Depart not from the path which fate has you assigned.***

I held the paper with a sigh. Even my fortune cookie was team Monroe. Maybe it was a sign. No, I didn't want it to be a sign. Perhaps it meant another path. There were many other paths. But it was too much of a strange coincidence not to mean _something_.

"So, what does the universe tell you?" Nick asked.

I looked up at him. "Not sure…" I passed my paper over.

"Well, isn't it obvious?" Nick began as I leaned in. "It's telling you to follow the yellow brick road." He grinned widely.

"Okay, Toto," I smirked. "What's yours say?"

Nick cracked his cookie open, and removed his fortune. "Let's see what my future holds." He studied it a moment then nodded.

"So?" I curiously asked.

"Okay, I think maybe you're right. This one actually holds true." He dropped the paper in front of me, and I eagerly picked it up.

***You will be hungry again in one hour.***

"The universe has spoken." Nick chuckled. "Maybe I oughta get something to go?"

"No need." I tossed the paper back at him. "You're full of crap already."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

After lunch we walked back toward Nick's truck. My eyes darted around, expecting Monroe to come out of nowhere.

"Stop him!" a woman shrieked behind us. We turned as a teenager was running at full speed in our direction with a black purse dangling in his hands. Nick belted toward him, but the kid ducked, escaping him. I waited until the teen was close and held out my arm, clotheslining him as he fell backward into the sidewalk with a sharp thud.

I held my forearm, wincing. Okay, so not the best thought-out idea. Wrestlers made it look so much easier than it really was.

The teen tried to scamper up as Nick ran over, but Nick was faster. In one quick motion, Nick was already on top before the teen knew what hit him. Nick pried the purse from his grasp and the teen flashed a woge into a rat as he gasped out a few breaths. Nick's head reared back, eyes wide.

"Grimm!" the teen squeaked out.

"Reinigen, right?" replied Nick with a smirk. The teen's eyes bulged as he tried to stammer out a reply, but by then the woman who owned the purse came rushing up.

"Oh, thank you so much!" she excitedly said as Nick handed the purse back to her. She glared down at her perpetrator. "He needs to be arrested. I'm calling the cops."

"No need for that," Nick replied. "I'm an officer." Pulling back his jacket, he showed her his badge clipped to his belt.

"Really? Well, take him in, book him, do something." She pointed an accusing finger at the teen. "He needs to be behind bars."

Nick waved her off. "I'll take care of him. Just go on and be safe."

The woman hesitated but nodded. "Thank you again, officer." Once she walked off, I moved in closer.

"You can't take him in, he's just a kid," I said as I knelt down beside the teen, whose expression looked like he'd just been abducted by aliens. "Let him up."

Nick stared hard at me, but then he let go so the poor kid could breathe.

"Don't cut off my head, okay?" He looked at both of us as he sat up, trying to support himself on his hands. "Look, I just needed some money. I'm sorry." He continued rambling as I tried to hush him.

The teen was telling the truth and he seemed pretty genuine, but just scared out of his wits. He was wearing an old, stained white t-shirt and had a few holes in his jeans, but that may have just been the style. His socks, however, were mismatched; a black one and a green one. Was he homeless? No mother would let their kid out looking like that no matter what the newest fashion statement might be.

"What did you need money for?" Nick asked incredulously.

"My mom's been sick and she can't work, so the money we have is almost gone." He ran his hand through a shock of flaming red hair that made Natalie's seem muted. "I just… I needed to get some groceries." Tears welled in his eyes and his stomach growled as if it knew he was discussing food. "I know it was wrong, but she can't get better if she doesn't eat." His tale was palpable. He hadn't even mentioned that he was hungry, just his mom.

"What's wrong with your mom?" I asked softly.

"I dunno. She's been in bed for weeks. Fevers, vomiting. We don't have insurance, so she won't go to the doctor. Says whatever it is, it'll pass." He shook his head. "But she's not getting any better. She's all I have."

I looked into his watery, brown eyes. He was young, maybe fifteen at most, and he was scared, it was obvious.

I turned to Nick. "Maybe we can help him and his mom."

Nick shook his head. "We can call an ambulance for his mom and…"

"No, she doesn't have insurance," I cut in. "They'll take her without it, but then what about him?"

"He's a minor, so he'll need to be in protective custody until the mother is able to take care of him again."

The teen stood, shaking as we discussed what to do.

"Do you still have Rosalee's number?" I asked Nick.

He nodded slowly. "Is that such a good idea?"

I turned to the teen. "Your mom… is she a Reinigen, too?" I whispered.

He nodded slowly. I turned back to Nick. "Maybe it's something Rosalee could take care of."

"Well, whatever we decide to do, let's talk about this off the street," Nick insisted while motioning to the truck.

The teen froze, shaking his head.

"What's your name?" I asked him.

"Benny."

"Okay, Benny. Nick, is an officer, so you're safe. We have an idea to get your mom some help, but you need to trust us, okay?"

"But he's a… and you…" The boy held himself while gaping at us.

"We're not going to hurt you," said Nick. "But we can't help you if you don't cooperate."

The teen grudgingly moved forward, and we got into Nick's truck. Nick gave me Rosalee's number, and I called her quickly.

"Hey, it's Renée," I said when she answered. "I have a question… Do you make house calls?"

After fifteen minutes of answering Rosalee's questions, she seemed to have an idea for a cure.

"It's a common ailment Reinigens get," she said, "but there's a remedy that's easy to make and it works quickly. She'll be on her feet in a few days."

"Whatever the cost is, let me know and I'll take care of it," I said while turning to smile at the teen, who was cowering in Nick's back seat. "I'm going to have you talk to her son, Benny, so you can get the information. Okay, Rosalee?"

"Sure, put him on the phone."

I handed the phone over to Benny, who gave Rosalee the address.

Nick reached for my hand. "You really are a protector," he chuckled softly.

I held my arm where the large bruise was forming. "I guess I am."

Once Benny was done, he handed the phone back to me.

"Thanks again, Rosalee," I said into the phone.

"My pleasure. I'll work on it right away and I'll be over there soon. Will you be there?"

"No, I've got to get back to work. I was on lunch when this happened."

"How did this happen at lunch?"

I bit the top of my lip. "It's a long story, but if this kid gets help, then it was worth it."

"Okay," said Rosalee. "I won't ask for details."

"Probably best not to."

As I hung up the phone, Nick turned around in his seat. "Stealing is never the answer," he told Benny in a GI Joe, public service announcement voice. "If you need help, you need to ask for it. Okay?"

The young boy shook his head vigorously. "Can I go now?"

"Yeah, but I need you to promise you're headed straight home. Rosalee needs you there to let her in to see your mom. Can you do that?"

He nodded like a bobble head. "Thank you for not killing me."

Nick sighed. "Just don't let me catch you stealing again, okay?"

"I promise, I swear."

I turned to face him. "And what we are, that stays a secret. Can you promise that, too?"

"Yeah. If my mom found out I'd run into two Grimms, she'd freak out."

"Well, she doesn't need to freak out if she's sick."

"Right. Got it," he replied adamantly.

"Here." I pulled out sixty dollars from my shoulder bag and held it out to him. "This should help with groceries until she's able to go back to work."

Benny gaped at me, but reached for the money. "How can I pay you back for this?"

"You pay it forward. Sometime you'll help someone else in need, and you tell them this story," I replied with a smile. "Minus the Grimm part, of course."

The teen held back more tears. "Thank you."

We got out of Nick's truck as the boy walked off, hopefully toward home. Nick pulled me close and kissed me deeply. "We make a good team."

"Yeah, we really do." I looked at my watch. "Crap, I've got to get back to work."

"Let's get you to your car." He noticed me holding my arm. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Fine. I just need to work on my WWE moves," I grinned through the pain. Fortunately I had my suit jacket I could wear to cover the damage for the rest of the day.

He gave a short nod as he got in the truck. Hmm, that was it? Monroe had to normally be convinced a few time that I was fine. I shrugged. It seemed Nick took my words at face value.

On the drive back Madonna sang out 'Forbidden Love.'

"_Once upon a time,  
There was a boy,  
There was a girl.  
Hearts that intertwine.  
They lived in a different kind of world._

Forbidden love.  
Are we supposed to be together?  
Forbidden love…"

I glanced over at the sexy man beside me. Was I on the wrong path? Things were so simple and normal. Monroe said there was no such thing, but with Nick there could be.

"Is this Madonna?" Nick asked.

"It is," I replied with mild surprise. Monroe would have already requested a channel change by now.

"So is she Wesen?"

"If she is, she hides it well," I chuckled. Chloe was adamant she was a Hexenbiest. The woman aged too well, was her argument. "Speaking of Wesen,_ y_ou really need to practice your facial reactions."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, that teenager morphed and you made this horrible face. You did the same thing at the restaurant on the way to California when you saw the Stangebär."

Nick laughed. "No, I don't."

"Yeah, you do."

He shook his head. "I'm still getting used to seeing that change, woge, whatever."

"I realize, but maybe you need to practice keeping a straight face."

Nick laughed and then replied, "I'll work on it." He reached for my hand. "Maybe you can help me."

"I can help you with many things, Detective Sexy." I turned and grinned at him.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

That afternoon, I left work early after my training. I'd need every hour I could find if I wanted to fit in everything I had on my schedule. Once home, I nuked half a tart. I needed something sweet to keep awake. I'd just save the other half for later.

After my sugar fix, I phoned Rosalee again for an update. She had good news. Benny's mom had taken the medication and it seemed like she was gonna be okay.

"We caught it before it became too irreparable. Another week and she may not have made it, I'll be honest."

"Thank you so much for doing this. That kid was so afraid for his mom."

"Yeah, he was pretty distressed. I'm going over there again tomorrow morning to check in on her."

"Good. I just hope she'll pull through."

"She will, thanks to you," Rosalee replied. "You're definitely different than anything I ever expected."

"I just try to do what's right."

"Well, between you and Monroe, you guys are very wonderful."

I pursed my lips. Monroe was wonderful, but I was a horrible person. Oh, Monroe. What was I gonna do?

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Nick called after I'd finished a video chat with my mom. I had a few hours before I was going to see Monroe, so I had time to see Nick again. Before heading to the trailer, I took a detour to Best Buy. This time it was for Nick. I found a copy of _The Maltese Falcon_ and another surprise.

Nick opened the trailer door, looking down at the Best Buy bag.

"What do you have there?"

"Just a few things." I smiled as I entered, setting the bag down on the bed and pulling out a box. "This will make the database easier," I said while handing it over.

"A laptop?" Nick asked.

I nodded. "It's for the trailer. It's safer to keep it all here instead of carting my laptop back and forth each time. Besides, how can you use the database when I'm not around?"

Nick kissed me hard. "Let's open it up."

"Oh!" I turned back toward the bag and pulled out the movie and a box of Crunch 'n Munch. "And we can watch this on it while we snack on this." I held up each item.

"Popcorn and a movie?" Nick grinned. "Sounds like a date to me."

After twenty minutes Nick had a new laptop. While we reclined on the trailer bed, we watched Sam Spade as he found the stuff that dreams were made of. Nick seemed enthralled with Peter Lorre's woge, and we rewound it a few times so he could watch. After that, Nick became a bit bored, so he put his own detective skills to good use and found the spots on my neck that made me care less about what Sam Spade was doing and more about the stuff Nick was made of.

Nick started unbuttoning my blouse while kissing me.

"Maybe we should… figure out what we're going to do first… before we…" I breathed out between kisses.

"We could… just do a little… more… before doing that…" he responded as a few more buttons came undone.

Oh, I wanted to do more than just a little more. But the small voice in my brain nipped at me to hold off, and so I backed up.

"Let's just do more of this," I urged, leaning in to kiss him again.

Nick broke our kiss with a sour face. "So, are you saving it for Monroe instead?" he asked bitterly.

"No, that's not it," I replied quickly. "Nick, I love you. I do. And I wanna show you how much without all this guilt."

"You shouldn't feel guilty," he stated like I was debating an extra scoop of ice cream.

"Don't you feel guilty?"

"No," he said, and then looked down. "Well, I don't want to hurt Juliette, but I also don't want this to feel wrong, either."

I nodded slowly then kissed him again. "You feel right to me."

"Maybe we should take some time to think," Nick suggested. "Juliette's been wanting me around more, and if you're feeling guilty..."

"What?" I asked, cutting him off. "Are we breaking up?" Wait, were we even dating? Chinese food and detective movies did not constitute dating.

"Look, let's just take some time off this weekend and see how we really feel."

My heart plummeted like someone had dropped an anvil on it, but I nodded and dipped my head. "Maybe we jumped into this too quickly."

"It's been quick, I agree. But I do love you." Nick tucked a finger under my chin. "But this way we can gain some perspective. I don't want to tell Juliette if what we have isn't going to work." His blue-green eyes locked with mine. "If you're unsure, then we need to know that now and not later."

"I understand."

So after a long kiss at the trailer door, we parted ways. Juliette expected Nick home for dinner, and I'd promised Monroe some one-on-one time at my place. We were cooking together tonight, because I was determined to get better in the kitchen. I adored him for cooking, but it wasn't fair for him to always be the one to do it.

Along the drive I was still thinking about Nick's words. He was right. If we couldn't stay away from each other for one weekend, then maybe this was more than just infatuation. My love for him felt more real than just a school girl crush, but then again, the love for Monroe was so real, too. I was torn between wanting to pass and fail Nick's test. All these feelings were too heavy to bear.

Stopping at the grocery store, I watched my time like a hawk. Monroe had texted me a list after I'd insisted I would buy the ingredients for dinner. It was like pulling teeth to talk him into letting me spend money. I pulled out my phone, scanning the list as I traipsed through the aisles, lickity-split. Most of the items I could manage, but when I got to the fresh artichoke, I paused. The only artichokes I'd ever seen were either canned or already in the spinach dip appetizers at TGI Fridays.

Pushing my cart over to the produce section, I surveyed the varieties of vegetables. Artichoke was a vegetable, right? Yeah, it had to be. Finally after a few minutes of perusing, I located the label amongst the leeks and the broccoli. Down below were large, green things that resembled stumpy versions of pineapple tops. I picked one of the foreign things up, turning it left and right. How the heck did you cook one? I reached for a produce bag and stuffed it inside. Guess I'd learn how tonight.

Fresh herbs were another conundrum. Marjoram? Maybe he'd meant margarine? I checked the list again. No, it clearly had the word 'herb' beside it. I trekked my cart to the herb section, adding the ones I was familiar with to the cart first; basil, parsley, and a clove of garlic. At least I wasn't completely ignorant. Finally I found fresh marjoram. It looked like many of the other herbs surrounding it; green and on a stalk. I held it near my nose, picking up a sweet and spicy scent I couldn't relate to anything else. Into the produce bag it went.

By the time I'd finished, I had two grocery bags of everything organic needed to make whatever dinner was floating around in Monroe's head.

I rushed home, pushing thoughts of Nick out so I could focus on a nice evening with Monroe. After last night, would the evening be nice? A rush of fear hit me as his words echoed in my brain. As far as pros and cons went, Nick was the leader in the non-scary category.

Taking care to throw my clothes in the washer, I had a long shower before Monroe arrived. So far, I was keeping Nick's scent away, or at least enough that Monroe hadn't questioned it. For good measure I'd sprayed the entryway and my porch with the wolfsbane mixture after I'd taken care of my car. The guilt still tugged at me as I hid the bottle away. I was spraying my liquid deception everywhere, trying to cover my tracks like a common thief.

Someone needed to lock me up and throw away the key.

* * *

A/N: Staying pretty Nick focused with these last two chapters. So we have pseudo-dates and a little Wesen of the week mini, where Nick and Renée work together as the Grimm Duo. But now the angst returns along with some guilt again on Renée's part. So how long will their planned separation last? Guess we'll see.

The fortune cookie fortunes are real ones I found online. Adding pictures to my profile if you wanna see them. Gives you that, warm, fuzzy, real-feel. (I'm weird, don't question me.)

Next chapter we're back to Monroe again post-trauma of their crazy night. We'll see how that goes.

* * *

**Side Note:** If you enjoy crossovers, there's a new Grimm/Vampire Diaries just started on the fan-fiction site by **Lorelei Candice Black** titled _**"Alaric Grimm."**_ Imagine if Alaric found out he's Nick Burkhardt's long lost brother. The two worlds merge as they reunite. Good read so far, and I like it. But like Levar Burton always said, "You don't have to take my word for it!"


	97. Chapter 97

**Chapter 97**

Promptly at seven there was a knock on my door. Right on time. Monroe's punctuality never faltered. As I opened the door, Monroe pulled me in close, kissing me deeply. I melted into his arms as we hovered in the hallway. For now, Dr. Jekyll was back and I was more than glad.

"Now that's how you say hello," I breathed out once he let go.

"How was your day?" he asked as we headed into the living room.

"It was just a typical day at the office." I shrugged. "Yours?"

"I got a few repairs in…" He looked me over. "But back to your day. So you wanna tell me anything?" He gave me an accusing glare.

"Tell you," I gulped, "anything?"

"Why are you hiding it?" he asked while shaking his head. "You knew I'd find out eventually."

Oh, God.

"Uh, well…" My heart pounded thunderously. He was awfully calm, which had me even more nervous. "I'm really sorry, Monroe."

"Man, what really happened?" he asked as he sat down on the couch, swinging his leg over his other one. "Rosalee said she didn't know the details, but she was shook up about it."

"Rosalee?" Rosalee knew about Nick? What? My brain blurred. I sat down beside Monroe, holding my head as I plopped down. "Rosalee knows?"

"Well, yeah." He gave me an odd look. "I talked to her while I was picking up some peppermint tea. She said the Reinigen lady is doing all right, you know, considering, but she didn't know how you came across this kid of hers."

My breath let out as I jerked my head up. The Reinigen. Of course! Oh, God. It had nothing to do with Nick.

"It was just a weird lunch," I replied as I cleared my throat.

"Well, I'm listening, man. Tell me all the weirdness."

I managed to augment my story to reflect a lunch for one instead of a lunch for two.

"You clotheslined the dude?" Monroe asked. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." I rubbed my arm reflexively. "I probably won't be trying it again anytime soon, though."

Monroe reached for my arm, sliding up my sleeve to reveal my now much larger and more hideous bruise. "Man, you're not fine at all." He let out a hard breath as he looked up. "Why do you tell me you're fine when you aren't, obviously?" He gestured toward my arm.

"Because it's just a little bruise," I said. "That's my definition of fine." He touched the purple flesh and I winced. "Hey, oww!" I withdrew my arm quickly.

"Yeah, you're just fine, all right," he replied condescendingly. "Let me get you some ice to put on that or something."

"No. Don't worry about it." I tugged my sleeve down and caught his arm before he could get up. "It'll be gone by tomorrow." I leaned forward to kiss him, but he held my shoulders before I could get that far.

"You've got to start trusting me, like, with stuff like this, for example."

"It's not that I don't trust you." I shook my head, trying to forget last night. "I just don't want to worry you." And I definitely didn't need him to know Nick was with me. Thank goodness Benny the Reinigen hadn't said anything, and Rosalee didn't know the details.

Monroe took my hand in his and kissed across my knuckles. "It worries me that you're out there revealing yourself again, and it worries me that, you know, that I have to, like, outright confront you on something for you to talk to me." He dropped my hand as he sighed.

"Monroe, I'm really sorry. It was a strange, crazy, stressful day. Between back to back trainings, then almost being late to my last one due to the lunch thing, I don't have both oars in my mental waters right now." I leaned against him. "But I got everything we need at the grocery, even the marjoram." I tilted my head back to look at him. "What do you use marjoram for, anyway?"

"It's for the sweet potatoes. It gives it this really nice citrus undertone that, in my opinion, balances well with the garlic."

"Sweet potatoes with garlic?" I cast him a curious stare.

"Yeah, man. It's delicious."

"See, that only proves I trust you, because there's no way I'd willingly try a combination like that for anyone else."

"Your taste buds are gonna thank you later, I promise," he grinned down at me.

For the next hour we minced, grated, chopped, simmered and baked in my kitchen until the whole house was infused with the warm, spicy scents of dinner. We sat across from one another once we laid everything out on the dining room table.

"Okay, so what's the verdict on the sweet potatoes?" Monroe asked after I'd taken a large bite.

I swallowed and then smiled. "The taste buds are pleased."

He gestured his fork my way. "See, I told ya, man. Don't ever question my judgment when it comes to palate synthesis." He grinned smugly. "I know what I'm doing."

"I bow down to your culinary genius, Chef Monroe." I dipped my head graciously.

"You don't have to bow, but perhaps we can find something for you to do later," he replied with a knowing look.

I glanced back up as the red in his eyes hit me. "Maybe we can take a rain check on that," I replied softly.

"Oh man…" Monroe set his fork down and shook his head. "Does this rain check have to do with last night?"

"Your genius goes beyond culinary," I replied with a sardonic chuckle.

"Okay, now last night was… We were both acting unlike our usual selves." He held his arms. "I still have the fingernail marks to prove it."

I leaned back in my chair. "I didn't mean to squeeze that hard."

He chuckled. "Really, it was fine. I assure you of that." He took a long swallow of wine, then asked, "So are we, uh, gonna talk about last night's musical compilation?"

I stared down at the blue and white design on my plate. "What about it?"

"Look at me a minute," he requested. Slowly, I leveled my eyes to his, still as red as before. "Don't give me that question for a question thing. Talk to me."

I took a deliberate sip of wine, stilling my thoughts. "Okay," I began as he continued to stare, waiting for me to go on. "Well, the songs were just my way of letting go of some inhibitions… just for the night," I added that last part quickly. This wasn't something I was planning on doing nightly or anything. Especially after all the things he'd said yesterday.

"That first song was… Man, Renée." He shook his head as a growl escaped him. "What were you trying to do to me?"

"I was trying…" I swallowed hard. "I wanted _you_ last night. The real you."

"Well, you almost got that," he scoffed. "More than you know."

"I thought maybe a Blutbad singing something like that would be… encouraging."

"The dude singing was a Blutbad?" Monroe shook his head. "Well, that explains the words, all right. And the other songs?"

"They were just… Well, I've been feeling different lately." More understatements. I was feeling so many things.

"No kiddin'," he replied with a chuckle. "But did you still enjoy it?" he asked straightforwardly. "Without the woge, I mean?"

"Some parts, yes." And some parts fucking messed with my head. My cheeks were burning as I reached for my wine glass again, taking a longer drink as I hid behind the glass.

"Which parts?" he inquired while leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. His red eyes were searing into my brain, like he was trying to break inside.

I took another swig of wine to keep from latching on to my lip with my teeth. "Let's finish dinner first before we, umm, discuss the play by plays of last night, okay?"

"Sure, we can do that." He picked up his fork, grin permeating like the devil under his beard. "Too bad you want a rain check tonight."

I tilted my head. "Why?"

He took a bite of sweet potato. "Ask me what I was going to do."

I shook my head. "Don't, Monroe."

"Come on," he coaxed. "Just ask me."

"Gosh, this black bean and rice pilaf is delicious." I took a large forkful.

"What's wrong?" Monroe raised his eyebrows. "Afraid that if you know, then you'll change your mind?"

I took in a breath. "No."

"Well, then... Let me just go through the steps," he continued. "So, first? I was gonna slowly undress you. I may or may not have torn your panties off. Hadn't decided on that part." His gaze hungrily bore into me, like I was the main course instead of what was on his plate. "Secondly, I was gonna bathe that gorgeous body yours with my tongue, focusing on a few choice spots." He licked his lips with a flick of his tongue, like I needed to be reminded what it was capable of. "Thirdly, I was going to kiss your neck, and maybe add a nip here and there with my teeth. Maybe." He paused, taking a sip of wine.

I tried to breathe as I attempted another bite of dinner. My mind was jelly as Monroe continued to stare into me, literally right down to my core, which was heating up like a container of Jiffy Pop, just waiting to explode.

Monroe set his glass down. "Now where was I?" He held up four fingers and continued. "Fourth, I'd have slid my fingers in and out of you while my tongue teased your clit. Two fingers to be exact, then three, until you were begging me to slide in something much larger. And you would've begged, too." His eyes cast their hypnotic spell as I attempted to control my breathing, losing the battle. "After you'd begged, and I'd felt you'd really meant it, I'd have moved to the fifth step; replacing my fingers with my cock, and slowly…ever so slowly…"

I dropped my fork as it hit the dark maple wood floor with a clang. Holy crap.

Nick had me feeling things, but they were nothing like what the man sitting across from me could do from a few feet away. Monroe didn't have to even touch me, and I was a quivering pile of goo in my dining room chair. Hell, it was more than just his lecherous details, too. His voice combined with a look that spoke a thousand, tantalizing words, all reaching down below my waist, teasing me to the point of…

"Umm, hard to finish dinner without that." He pointed down with a smirk, jarring my thoughts. "Did you want me to continue, or should I go get you another fork?"

My eyes didn't move as I bit my bottom lip.

Monroe stood quickly as he walked toward me, taking my napkin from my lap and dropping it on my plate. "Dinner is so over."

* * *

A/N: Okay, how we doing? A little scare for Renée there for a moment. But we see the softer side of our loveable Monroe as he doesn't take Renée's "I'm fine" seriously like Nick seems to.

While search vegetarian dishes, (As I usually do for these scenes) I did find a sweet potato recipe with garlic and marjoram. Your author is not as trusting and will not be trying garlic and sweet potatoes anytime soon. LOL!

Maybe Renée has forgiven Monroe already, huh? Monroe is one sly wolf. (; He might not be completely out of the dog house just yet.

Using a little more colorful language here, since it's Monroe talking. He's a bit more open to words that your Author would rather be more vague about. Sometimes the characters just talk and I can't control them. Sorry.

Stopping here for tonight! Hope I'm not losing fans. Come on fans, trust me! (;

More chapters soon-ish. Comments, gripes, screaming, cursing, yelling all understood and appreciated. Let me know your thoughts. They oughta be interesting. (;

As always... STAY TUNED!


	98. Chapter 98

**Chapter 98**

"So now are you ready to talk about last night?" Monroe asked as we lay tangled in a heap on my bed. "If you can form sentences yet, that is."

I tried to wet my mouth so I could respond. "Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain," I managed to reply.

He angled his head to meet my eyes. "Are you gonna breathe some truth into those scarce words?" he asked with a grin. Monroe definitely knew his Shakespeare.

If I didn't discuss it now, then it would get swept under the rug. But there was too much to discuss. My brain slowly sifted through the molasses that had filled my mental filing cabinets.

"I don't know where to start," I finally said.

"Try starting with the enjoyable parts."

I held my hand over my chest as my heart raced. "I enjoyed letting go last night. I enjoyed being on top, and that you let me take over. And I enjoyed it when you told me to do… _a few_ things when you took over." The heat crept up my cheeks.

"Well, it sounds like we had a good time then."

"But then you said things to deliberately scare me, and then you kept going afterward." I rolled over to completely face him. "What you said… Those horrible words… And the way you said them… And your claw… Holy crap, Monroe." I scowled. "Do you really think you would've… hurt me like that?"

Monroe breathed out slowly. "Not on purpose."

"You seemed pretty bent on it being purposeful." I shivered in spite of myself. "Why would you say all that to me?" I snapped as I held back tears again.

"Renée, man, it's just…" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You just don't wanna listen," he replied softly. "I told you not to ask me that, but then what did you do? You asked me again, just pushing the big, bad Blutbad envelope wide open." He shook his head. "I had to say something to shock the hell out of you a little bit, otherwise you were gonna keep pushing until I couldn't control it, and then…" He sighed heavily as he trailed off. The silence spoke for itself.

"A little bit?" I scoffed as I tucked a pillow under my head. "Well, you got your point across, for sure."

"Well, good." He ran his fingers along my stomach. "Because, you gotta understand, you know, I could really hurt you, and I don't want that." His gentle tone contrasted with the words. "Doing whatever I want isn't a viable option. We talked about Blutbad instincts, needs, desires, and all that… And, well, that's my… What did you call it? Hard limit." He stroked my cheek. "I can't ever hurt you again like I did before."

"Well, last night I would've let you," I murmured, letting my breath out.

"I was picking up on that, and maybe that kinda, umm, scared me, too," he admitted. "So, I scared you right back."

I pulled a sheet over me. "Then we should've stopped after that."

Monroe laughed. "Uh, I tried that, remember?"

"I mean _after_ you said all those things," I explained. "You freaked me out and then you proceeded to… keep going."

He rolled over toward me, brown eyes changing to red. "Maybe _I_ didn't want to stop after that."

I narrowed my eyes. "Was that part of the domination, too?"

"Not all of it." Monroe cleared his throat. "Umm, your fear scent mixed with all that arousal is a bit… Umm… stimulating."

I bolted forward, holding my sheet against me as I looked down at him. "So you got off on my fear?" What the fuck?

He propped himself up on his elbow. "Okay, when you say it like that it sounds really bad."

It _was_ really bad and bordering on depravity, but I held my tongue.

"It's hard to explain," Monroe continued as he gestured with his free hand. "The scents they do things… and a combo like yours… Man, it's… I mean, it's like describing a rainbow to a blind person. Well, umm, if you could equate colors to scents, I guess." He scratched at his beard. "I wonder what blue would smell like?"

"I'd rather just stay blind," I replied bitterly, ignoring his pondering.

"Well, maybe so…" Monroe lifted himself from the mattress and curled an arm around me. "It was just a strange night all around, man. We both did things that weren't so great. But we liked some of it, too… So maybe we just need to focus on the good parts, and try to do those good parts again… next time."

I turned my head to face him. "Monroe, if you _ever_ do that again… I can't guarantee there will be a next time." He'd help choose for me if he did. Nick didn't have claws or teeth.

"And the reason I did it is so there _will_ be," His face darkened as he held me tighter. "Please don't tempt me like that anymore. You have to promise."

"Why can't it be easy?" I asked as I looked away, ignoring his request.

That question was for more than just this situation. The scales were tipping in Nick's favor. Maybe I was stupidly sadistic, but I still loved Monroe. Underneath all those startling revelations he remained my knight in a shiny VW, whose adorkable ways and genuine smile had me smitten like I'd never been before. Well, until I became smitten with Nick. With Nick it could really be easy, and I didn't have to question any of it. Monroe came with a whole questionnaire and a multiple choice quiz.

"Relationships are never easy," Monroe simply replied.

"No, I realize that." I brushed away the tear that had managed to escape. "But why can't the typical rules work for us? It's supposed to be boy meets girl, not boy eats girl."

"Dude, I'm not gonna eat you." His laugh was awkward and strained as he rubbed my arm. "All this is new to me, too. I mean, it's not like there's a rule book for what we're doing."

"I don't want you to change who you are." I wanted to add, 'But I don't want you to kill me, either.' Nick was looking better every minute I kept this conversation going.

"Dude, I've been changing who I am for almost a decade. It has nothing to do with you."

Monroe was so complex. But lately the complexities were increasing. What else did I need to know? What other things would set him off? What the hell was lurking in his closet? This Scorpio-Blutbad was a wicked combo. Maybe I needed to break down and read my grandmother's Grimm book and some other astrology books, too.

Monroe was watching me, studying my face as my brain ran though everything.

"I think there's more you're hiding from me," I finally blurted out when I could no longer tolerate his burning gaze. "And I don't mean the obvious things that I don't want to hear about."

"Hiding?" he repeated. "Oh, and this is coming from the same woman who, you know, couldn't tell me about her lunch break today?" he scoffed.

I closed my eyes. "Is this your first time telling a woman what to do in bed?" I'd just listen for the warble.

Monroe sighed then asked, "Is this about the blindfold thing again?"

"Answer the question," I replied. "Is this the first time?"

"No."

I opened my eyes as I turned to face him. "Do you usually do this with women you date?"

"Look, you've got a past, I've got a past. We've already dealt with part of your past, so let's not crack open mine and dredge it up all over the place, okay? I didn't mean to hurt you by bending the truth... a little bit."

"It's more than just lying about ropes and blindfolds," I replied, my breath shaky.

Bending the truth? Call a spade a spade. Okay, well perhaps I wasn't the best person to cast the first stone in my glass house of deceit, but still, call it what it was… lying.

"Okay, then what is it?" he asked, studying my face.

"It has me…. It's… I'm playing out some crazy scenarios in my head, and I just don't know what to make of them just yet."

Since reading that silly _Fifty Shades_ book and after the woods in Kentucky, I'd been curious. Curiosity wasn't smart. It killed the proverbial cat, and ultimately I was a Leo. I was also reckless, which was a bad mix if I wanted to keep my nine lives.

Monroe had mentioned things even before we'd tried the rope that had piqued my curiosity further. He'd say a little something here and there, just to test the waters. After the talk in the car and last night, however, I was expecting to find an arsenal of chains and whips and who knew what else in Monroe's closet. (Or dungeon. I wasn't ruling out he had one.) My mild mannered Monroe was starting to become C, none of the above.

He stared at me intently. "What kinda… scenarios?"

My face flushed. "The kind doesn't matter, but it's just making me think there's a darker side to you and I don't…" I glanced down at my hands, which were much better to look at than at his eyes. "And I don't know how dark it goes."

His finger met my chin, tilting my head back up. So much for my hands. "If we, uhh… Let's say we factor the aftermath of that one night out of the equation…" He licked his lips slowly. "Did you enjoy anything about the night I used the rope?"

Factoring that out was easier said than done. The biting had severely tainted the overall experience, and the whole thing had lost its curious charm. After a brush with death, bondage had no longer seemed as fun as Ana and Christian in the book had implied. Granted, neither of them were Wesen, either, so they didn't have to worry about needing safe words to prevent ripping and tearing. But before the biting… I thought back, blocking out the finale. Well, it wasn't all that terrible. Actually, it was… quite enjoyable.

As I tried to think, Monroe kept my chin held firm, so there was no way to avert my gaze. The red bore into me as my breath came out in uneven spurts. If he kept looking at me like that, I'd let him tie me up right then and there.

"Can you… Can you change them to brown, just for a minute?" I asked.

He looked puzzled. "Change what?"

"Your eyes… Can you focus and just go to brown, please?"

I'd never asked that before, but I needed Monroe the man to talk to about this. I hated separation, but right now I was separating. We needed to be two people talking about weird, kinky things. Not a Wesen that had claws and teeth talking to a Wesen that regenerated.

Monroe blinked a few times as he let my chin go. "Uhh… I can try?" His face tensed and his brow jutted forward like he was concentrating, which only gave him red eyes with an angry expression. No, that was worse. Much worse.

"Never mind," I said and fell back on my pillow. I took a slow breath then continued. "Before the 'incident,'" I used finger quotes as I talked to the ceiling, "yes, I found parts of the control enjoyable." There, I admitted I was apparently weird, too. I closed my eyes before Monroe tried to look at me. My face became as hot as the surface of the sun while I awaited his reply.

"You've already told me you like it when I take control…" he said after a few moments. "But what about the rope?" His voice had that dark, ominous tinge to it that I wouldn't have normally caught with my eyes open. "What about you losing _your_ control, with your hands bound tight… giving me all the power?"

Giving _him_ all the power? The blaze of heat continued to burn from my cheeks. His voice alone was as hypnotizing as those scarlet red eyes of his. The ropes had brought out fear, but apparently it turned him on if I was simultaneously aroused and scared out of my wits. My recklessness fed off the fear, too, so perhaps I was no better. The vulnerability was enjoyable when he held me down, but the ropes intensified it. They added something altogether different. Something that hadn't been duplicated since that night. But once the biting began… God, if he had tied down more than just my hands… Well, I wouldn't have survived that night, literally. Dammit.

"You know the ropes triggered fear," I said, tapping my nose to make my point.

His hand brushed against my cheek. "Yeah, but it triggered other things too, right?"

"Yeah it did," I breathed out.

"So did you enjoy the rope?"

I took a hard swallow. "Yeah."

A small growl, so faint it was almost a whisper, came from him. "So, okay…" He paused as I continued to keep my eyes closed tight. "So, let's say I enjoy it, too?" There was another pause. "And if we both like it, umm, then that doesn't mean that it's dark as much as it's… something we can both enjoy, umm, together… again… sometime?"

"You really want to try that again?" Was he attempting to smooth talk this into something conventional? 'Oh, it's Saturday night, Honey. Let's get the ropes out.' Holy crap.

"Uhh… If I said yes," he cleared his throat, "would that be the wrong answer?"

I sucked in my breath. "What if I bite my lip again, or you see something red in the room that sets you off, or…?"

His finger pressed against my lips, startling me. "Or what if you give in to me and we have some amazing, out of this world sex because of it?" His voice was back to silk, the words swirling my brain, warming other parts of my body. He traced my lips with his finger. "The next time, we'll plan better."

Nick came back to mind. Maybe we were too quick to take time off. Did Nick have any weird kinks I needed to know about? Maybe easier was the way to go. I could be with Nick, and leave Fifty Shades of Monroe's Gray Sweaters before I let him talk me into visiting his Blutbad red room of agonizing pain and sharp teeth. All these fears and worries about Monroe could be eliminated if I chose Nick. Lovely thoughts of Nick and me in the trailer, kissing and holding each other passed through my mind. Maybe he was thinking of me tonight, too, and…

"Renée?" Monroe breathed out my name, snapping me back to present. A light wave of air brushed by my face.

"I still feel it," I said with a smirk.

"Just checking," he chucked in reply. "So, uh, you're quiet, and you're smiling, and there are some other things flourishing, too." He tapped my nose this time to make his point. "So, umm, am I to take that as you like the idea?"

My smile faded as I pressed my lips and opened my eyes. "If I hadn't kicked you that night, would you… Would you have stopped?" Internally I finished the sentence, '…stopped before you killed me?'

Monroe's brows furrowed. "I don't know… I wasn't…" He widened his eyes, which were back to a fiery red. "I wasn't me… Well, I _was_ me, I mean… The control only holds so much, but when the blood… your blood…"

"Is there something wrong with my blood?" I asked, interrupting him.

"Oh man…" Monroe groaned. "Wrong isn't the word at all. It's just… different."

I pressed my lips again. "The Blutbad that held me outside that night at the bar… He said it was different, too."

"WHAT?!" Monroe jerked forward, looming over me. "He bit you?!"

I squeezed my hands over my ears due to the roaring growl that went along with the question. "No, when he scratched me he had a… taste," I replied quickly, lowering my hands.

Monroe reached for my shoulders, yanking me up. "Why didn't you say anything? Dammit, Renée. I would've killed him… Would've…" The growls and German replaced the words.

"Please calm down." I held his face in my hands. "I wouldn't tell him what I was, so he said he'd just find out, and so he…" I was getting flustered. "He said it was… I was… tasted… different and really good."

"Well, yeah, 'cause it's…" Monroe paused, wild-eyed.

"Oh, God." I clasped a hand to my mouth. "It tastes good to you, too?"

I really was Wesen cocaine. Crap!

"Fuck…" he growled, shutting his eyes briefly. "Now don't get the wrong idea there…" he shook his head, opening his eyes as the red saturated them. "It's just... Maybe it's the Grimm thing, or the Waldgeist side… Hell, I don't know. It's not human, umm, tasting, which conflicts with the scent. It's like… You remember Crystal Pepsi? Like, it was clear, so you expected one thing, but then it tasted like Pepsi, so then it messed with your senses a bit? Like, it was good yet different all at the same time."

My boyfriend had just equated my blood to soda. Wow… Sadly, I was a little more shocked he ever drank soda at all.

I sat up straight, tightening the sheet around me. "I really shouldn't have said anything about this." My head dipped as I gripped the edge of the bed with my fingers.

"No, you should've said something that night. Man, Renée, you need to tell me what's going on so I can…"

I jerked my head up. "So you can kill people?"

Monroe growled then let out a huff. "No, I mean… Dammit. I wouldn't have _actually_ killed him. We don't kill our own." He tugged at his hair.

"Would you have killed the Daemonfeuer?" I asked. "She's not your own."

"Yes." Monroe sucked in a breath. "Yes, I would've."

"You can't become my personal hit man, Monroe." I said while taking his hand. "My God, what do you think I'd do if they hauled you off to jail?"

"I'd have to get caught for that to happen." His voice was dark again, and my eyes didn't need to be shut to pick up on it.

"I don't care what someone does to me. You can't kill them." Holy crap, was I really having this conversation? Oh, my normal life.

"The Daemonfeuer deserved to die, Renée. What she did to you…"

"She whacked me on the head when I stood up to her, and then tied me up. And I was tied up and wounded again, which I got over, too." Monroe pursed his lips at that comment. "I heal, and it's fine. We learn lessons, and we move on. Don't stand up to a dragon, and don't get tied up with red rope around a Blutbad. Live and learn."

"It was more than that, Renée. The fear that poured off you in that tunnel, it was nothing I'd ever smelled off you before, even more than that night with us."

"Yeah, because I was scared for what, an hour, maybe two? I couldn't escape, and I didn't think anyone was coming for me or for Juliette. And that I couldn't help her either, that upset me, too." I shook my head at him. "But it doesn't matter. You can't kill someone, no matter what they do to me. If they murder me, then you let it go. Or find them so Nick can take care of them. He can legally make them suffer, you can't."

"You say that, but your scent said something else entirely, man. It was like, fear mixed with despair in that tunnel and it hurt me, almost like I was feeling it. That mixture, it's like…"

"Hold it," I cut him off. "If you start using more soda or rainbow analogies I'm not going to be able to take it."

"I was gonna use fruit this time, but okay." He sighed. "But what I mean is that's not how we operate. If someone hurts one of our own, then we… we take care of it."

'Take care of it.' Those words were starting to give me a headache.

"I want to say this without being rude, ungrateful, or disrespectful." I took his hand in mine. "I'm not a Blutbad. I'm a half-human who needs to know her boyfriend isn't a murderer. My conscience can't take you killing people because of me. Does that make sense?"

Monroe glowered at me as he stifled a growl in his throat. "I'm reformed, but even I have limits to my reformation, Renée. That's who I am. There have been times, not too long ago actually, where I held back for the greater good, and I've lost those I care about because of those decisions. I will not lose you, and anyone who tries to take you away from me will suffer."

Holy fuck… I was gonna get Nick killed.

"Unless they're a Blutbad, right?"

"I just said we don't kill our own. Suffering is completely different." Monroe studied my reaction as my mind went back to the Blutbad at the bar again. As if he read my thoughts he asked, "What else did he do to you?"

There was no way I was telling him anything more. "You know the rest. He rubbed up against me, and he wanted to know what I was, probably because I knew where to whack him with an umbrella, since apparently I shouldn't know that."

He palmed my chin, staring into my eyes, the red practically pulsing. "Are you sure that's it?"

"Yeah," I coolly replied. "Then you came out of nowhere and saved the day like the hero you are." I tried to grin, but it was difficult with how he held my face.

Monroe let go. "I'm no hero, Renée," he muttered while staring off at the bedroom door.

"Well, like it or not, you're my hero." I wrapped my arms around his. "Even if you are a little dark around the edges."

* * *

A/N: Okay, so Monroe and Renée are both revealing a bit here.  
A lot of you are probably too young to remember Crystal Pepsi, so I guess I'm showing my age, huh? LOL! Look it up, or ask someone that's in their 30's and older.

More chapters on the way... STAY TUNED!


	99. Chapter 99

**Chapter 99**

The weekend approached and I was already losing it. I had to occupy my time. Nick was keeping Juliette company all this weekend. She was getting him all to herself, and Monroe was getting me all to himself, which meant Nick and I were off limits to one another as we figured out these feelings. The separation thing was already eating at me by the end of Friday. I'd worked from home, and even at the Tao of Tea, my concentration was at a low.

On Saturday morning I sweated off my thoughts with Monroe in Bikram. Miss Intimidation was pleased to see me again, and she worked me to the core. Literally. My core burned like an inferno during our workout. Thoughts of Nick tried to penetrate my brain, but I pushed them away. I channeled my frustrations while doing the Downward Dog. When that didn't work, I went to Monroe's after class and did some real Downward Dog instead.

By that afternoon I was fidgety, so I visited Rosalee at the spice shop for something for anxiety.

She measured out two scoops of passionflower tea. "This may help ease the symptoms," she said with a smile. "Anything you want to talk about?" she offered a friendly ear.

"No," I waved it off. "Just stress at work." I blamed many things on work. It was my scapegoat. "How's Benny's mom?" I asked to take the subject off me.

"I saw her this morning," Rosalee replied. "She's much better. By Monday she ought to be able to resume work, which she seemed more than eager to do."

"That's wonderful news!" I exclaimed. "Thank you again for taking the time to help." I pulled open my shoulder bag. "How much was the medication, so I can pay you for it?"

Rosalee waved her hands as she shook her head. "No charge. It was my pleasure to help her out."

"Are you sure?" I asked, handing her the cash for the tea.

"Absolutely," she insisted. "My father taught me that one good deed is worth gold."

"Dads can be pretty wise sometimes," I replied. And sometimes they can hold crazy secrets, too.

Rosalee's cell rang, and she pulled it out of her pocket. She beamed as she stared at the display then looked up at me. "It's Pete."

I held up the bag of tea. "Thanks for this and I'll let you have some privacy." I gathered my shoulder bag and keys off the counter as Rosalee answered the phone, greeting Pete.

"Have a good day, Renée." She said as she held the receiver with her hand.

I pointed toward the phone and grinned. "Tell him, 'Hi' for me."

She nodded, and I turned and left the shop. Hopefully this tea would help me.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

After four cups of tea, I worked on painting the upstairs guest rooms in an attempt to keep my mind from obsessing, and to keep my hands busy from dialing Nick's number. The project helped, but the tea didn't. Nothing completely prevented the feelings from lingering. On and on… Brushstrokes brought on thoughts of stroking other things. We were excellent at kissing, but other things would be better. No… We needed to wait for other things. Too early to go there, yet… But soon. It needed to be soon.

Kelly Clarkson played downstairs as I painted.

"_It's like I can't breathe.  
It's like I can't see anything.  
Nothing but you.  
I'm addicted to you.  
It's like I can't think,  
Without you interrupting me.  
In my thoughts,  
In my dreams,  
You've taken over me.  
It's like I'm not me.  
It's like I'm not me…"_

I wasn't myself. The small voice in my head spoke up. 'No, this isn't you. You're going down the wrong path. You love Monroe.' I squelched the small voice flat and shoved it back in its mental drawer. No, I loved Nick. No matter how much I loved Monroe, his humanity was never completely intact. Nick's was. I shook my head. No… But that didn't matter. If that were the case, I'd have left Monroe long ago. That was a poor excuse for my feelings. There was no excuse. Nick was just taking over and I couldn't stop thinking about him. Excuses aside, I was so smitten and addicted.

Once the upstairs was fully painted, I took a long shower. My thoughts went back to Nick, imagining him and I together as my hands traced down my body. I pretended he was the one caressing me, fondling me, bringing me to climax as I moaned loudly in my shower. I was panting once I emerged, pulling a towel around me, and falling back on my bed. No, that had just made it worse. Now all I was thinking about was sex. I needed it, craved it. Finally in an effort to get my mind off sex, I had sex again with my feisty, lusty Blutbad. He came over immediately and I came immediately afterward.

As we caught our breaths, I felt a bit better. These feelings were like a drug, and Monroe was the hit I needed to ebb the cravings. It wasn't exactly what I wanted, but Monroe sure knew how to make it work out in my favor. Sex with Monroe temporarily corked it all. While I was with him, thoughts of Nick were plugged up in his own little bottle and hidden from my mind. Afterward, however, the cork would pop open and he'd saturate my thoughts once again. This weekend was gonna be hard, and I was already drowning.

"You're a bit insatiable today," commented Monroe with a sly grin as I rolled over, running my hands through his chest hair while trying not to imagine it was Nick's chest.

"Maybe Bikram is doing something to me," I chuckled. No, Nick was doing something to me. Something crazy… Something awful… Why did Juliette get him this weekend? Dammit.

"Then we definitely need to keep going to class together," Monroe replied, leaning up to kiss my forehead.

"That won't be a problem," I sighed. Miss intimidation wouldn't let me forget my promise.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

That night, while Monroe was sleeping soundly, I received one, single text from Nick.

**I MISS YOU**

I didn't text back. If I texted then I'd want to talk to him, and if I talked to him, then I'd want to see him, and if I saw him, well then… It would be absolutely wonderful.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

By Sunday afternoon I'd already added a second coat of paint to the upstairs, mopped floors, scrubbed the kitchen and the bathroom, dusted, vacuumed, and polished all the wood in the house. If I wasn't able to see Detective Sexy, then at least my house was going to be immaculate.

After cleaning, I pulled out my violin and played Tchaikovsky's melancholic Symphony No.6 in B Minor. I was feeling a bit 'Pathétique' today, so the title of the symphony fit the mood well.

Dire Straits rang out from my phone on the coffee table, halting my violin and my breath. I raced over to answer it as the butterflies in my stomach swirled around.

"Nick," I breathed.

"Renée." The way my name passed from his sexy lips to my ears sent a warmth down my body...way down my body. "I had to call… I needed to talk to you. You're all I've been thinking about, even in my dreams, it's you. I just…"

"I know. I miss you something awful, too," I finished for him. "Meet me at the trailer. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"I can't," he said slowly. "I shouldn't even be calling you right now. Juliette's in the other room, and…"

"Oh, Nick," I practically moaned as I set my violin down. "You shouldn't have called. This is torture, you know that?"

"I know, but I wanted to hear your voice just for a moment."

"Well, now you have, so hang up before she walks in."

"I'll see you tomorrow, I promise," he whispered.

"I'm counting on it," I replied and the phone clicked off.

Dammit. Now I wanted to see him. Why did he have to call? I picked up my violin and played Hinder's 'Lips of an Angel' as I paced the floors.

"_It's funny that you're calling me tonight.  
And yes, I dreamt of you, too.  
And does she know you're talking to me?  
Will it start a fight?  
No, I don't think he has a clue…_

_And I,  
Never wanna say goodbye.  
But boy, you make it hard to be faithful,  
With the lips of a…"_

…sexy detective. A really, hot, sexy… My bow screeched across the strings. Dammit! My cell rang again, startling me out of my smoldering thoughts. I looked down at the display from the coffee table. Chloe. That bunny of mine always knew when to call.

"How's the vacation?" I asked as I answered, putting away my violin.

"I think I'm going to move here," she giggled. "I don't want to leave the ocean or the beach."

"Or the guys?" I asked. The direct link to her brain said that was helping, too.

"Well, there's one here that already said I could live with him," she dreamily sighed. "Girl, talk me out of it, but not too much 'cause he's got a body like Thor."

"Thor? Oh, gee, you sure you want me to talk you out of it?"

"The kids back home need guidance," she chanted aloud a few times.

"Your wisdom can't be replaced. The kids will thank you later and Thor will just get old and saggy."

Chloe laughed. "You might be right. The man can kick back beers like they're water. In a few years _his_ six pack will turn into a keg."

"Thor with a keg does not make for a pretty picture."

"Speaking of horrible pictures, should I even ask about your love triangle?" Chloe questioned, changing the subject.

"Umm…"

"Great. So, let me guess… You haven't made any choices, and Monroe is still in the dark. So, while you and The Grimm Wonder have been having afternoon delights in the trailer behind his back, he's stuck at home, alone with his tofurkey. Am I close?"

"Not even close. No, I haven't made any decisions. But Nick and I aren't having any delights, afternoon or otherwise. Monroe and I had tofurkey together yesterday, actually, and Nick and I took the weekend off from each other, so we can figure out what this is."

"I can tell you what it is. It's fucking stupid, that's what!" she exclaimed. "You need to fucking shut up about the Grimm and quit acting stupid when you have everything you need with Monroe, all nice and gift wrapped with a wolfy bow on top."

"Chloe, I care about Nick." I wasn't about to tell her that we'd said we loved each other. She'd find a way to slap me for sure. "And I know it's not fair to Monroe. I care about him, too. I care about them both, so much."

"It's dangerous, Renée. If the Grimm's girlfriend finds out, you're gonna have a mad-ass woman, bitch-slapping you for stealing her man, and you'll wind up on _Jerry Springer_. Or worse, Monroe finds out and rips Nick's heart out of his chest in retaliation for you breaking his. That one's less likely to be on _Jerry Springer_, but you never know with TV nowadays."

"I can honestly say this won't make the airwaves," I groaned at her. "We're being careful. The last thing I want to do is hurt anyone."

The threat Monroe had made about making anyone suffer who took me from him sprang to mind. Chloe might not have been far off. Monroe might really hurt him, and I'd… Oh, God. I didn't want to think about it.

"That's inevitable if you two keep it up," she simply replied as if the direct brain link relayed everything I'd just thought about. "Someone is gonna get hurt, unless by some miracle you and the Grimm end this star-crossed lovers crap now and vow to never speak of it again. If you stop immediately, maybe, just maybe you guys might get away with it. Not that I'm recommending that, but it's the lesser of two evils at this point," she sighed.

"But if I still have feelings for Nick, and if I take your 'sage' advice," (I used finger quotes on 'sage' even if Chloe couldn't see.) "then we can't work in that trailer together… ever again."

She sighed in exasperation. "You can manage. Help the Grimm if you have to, but leave the other stuff to his girlfriend. You know, the woman he _lives_ with? Jesus… And stop using air quotes," she added. Our brain links were uncanny.

"Well, I'm not sure if I'm choosing Monroe," I countered. "Maybe I'll pick Nick and find some way to let Monroe down gently." Gently as in Nick and I run far, far, away and never look back, so Monroe wouldn't kill him.

"Why can't you just listen to me, so I don't have to suffer the cold, Portland weather and leave Thor alone on this gorgeous beach to drink by himself?"

"Stay with Thor. I'll make a decision."

"When?" she asked, incredulously.

"By… next week," I relented.

"Okay, you've time-stamped it. One week. And call me when you choose, so I know who I'm stuck hanging out with when you come home," she forced a chuckle.

"I'll let you know. Do you even have to ask?"

"I'll expect your call. If by next Sunday if you haven't picked one, I'm picking for you, and you'll just have take whomever I choose."

"You'd pick Monroe."

"Team Monroe all the way," she said in a sing song voice. "Oh, which reminds me, I need to figure out my Derby horse this year. It's a shame you aren't coming home in time for the festivities."

"I was going to, but scheduling at work made it impossible to leave."

Thunder over Louisville was last night. It was the first one I'd missed in years. The largest fireworks display in the country skillfully choreographed to music was one of the highlights of the Kentucky Derby extravaganza each year. Sitting on the Waterfront on top of a blanket, surrounded by friends as bursts of colors poured from the barges on the river, was a sight to see. But the music was my favorite part. It would cascade from the speakers and radios of the crowd, vibrating through me and filling my soul in warm waves. There was a small pang in my heart as the homesickness hit. But with Chloe in Florida it wouldn't have been the same anyway. Besides, Derby day was on a full moon, which at the time didn't seem such a great idea to be out of town with Monroe. Maybe next year I'd get my vacation earlier and take… Well, I'd take someone with me to share in the experience.

"Next year, for sure,' said Chloe, as if she read my mind again. "We'll do it up in style."

"Well, at least the crowds will be gone by the time I get back," I said, trying to find a silver lining.

"Yeah. That part of the Derby I can do without. I'm sure they already have some of the ramps to I-65 blocked off. Ugh." She let out a groan. "Well, girl, I really need to go." She mumbled something and a male voice replied, which was followed by Chloe giggling. "Okay, keep me posted on who wins the race to your crazy heart, and I'll keep my bet on Monroe. But chose soon, otherwise you're gonna make a mess that I'll have to help you clean up."

"I'll keep a broom handy just in case."

As I hung up I sighed. Nick's voice echoed through my brain again. Why did he have to call? My heart was getting squished inside this love triangle as it closed in on me. The sharp, pointy edges poked at my soul. Pick one? It was like choosing water over oxygen. Just the thought of one of those men out of my life stabbed at me. I thought about Diana King's lyrics as I collapsed back on the couch, humming.

_"Where do I begin?  
Two people, just friends.  
Feeling more and more,  
But it's not where this love story ends.  
The situation's strong, then another came along.  
Innocent enough, but suddenly it went all wrong.  
A love triangle..."_

Would it go all wrong like Chloe had predicted? No, I'd buck up, figure out all these crazy feelings, and choose one. One week, no more dawdling.

* * *

A/N: The weekend has been harder than both Nick and Renée thought. Kelly Clarkson's addicted fits this situation really well. Not sure if you've noticed but any song I've put with these two have lyrics about obsession, crazy feelings unexplained, or addiction... I'd like to think Renée's subconscious isn't as stupid as she is. It's trying to break through, though.

Also can't have a cheating situation without some "Lips of an Angel" lol

Chloe has tried yet again to talk some sense into her friend. Ah well...

3 more chapters today... (:


	100. Chapter 100

**Chapter 100**

That night, thoughts of Nick had driven me crazy long enough, so I drove my car instead. The windshield wipers beat in time with my heart as I found myself on the Northeast side of town. Somehow my car just happened to make the turns to Northeast Prescott Street. The Toyota was in the driveway, but the Subaru wasn't around. I pulled out my cell while humming along to Melissa Etheridge on the radio.

"_I wanna come over.__  
__To hell with the consequence.__  
__You told me you loved me.__  
__That's all I believe.__  
__I wanna come over.__  
__It's a need I can't explain.__  
__To see you again.__  
__I wanna come over…"_

I texted Nick.

**Are U alone?**

I waited impatiently for a reply. The words popped up as my phone beeped.

**Not for long.**

I smacked the steering wheel with my hand then texted back.

**How long?**

His reply was faster.

**15 mins. Maybe less?**

I typed back.

**I'm outside. I need to see you.**

The curtains moved in the window upstairs. My heart skipped as Nick's face poked out between them. I received another text back.

**It's not safe.**

I typed furiously.

**Please? 5 mins?**

His reply came back quickly.

**Ok. 5 mins. But I don't know if I can let u go if I see u.**

I wrote my reply.

**1 kiss & I will go.**

The reply came back.

**Ok. I'll be out soon.**

I set my phone down, heart racing like a Kentucky Derby horse in my chest. Nick walked down the stairs, through the rain, and to my car. He barely had time to close the car door when I leaned over and kissed him hard. Oh, God. I'd missed him so much. His lips were ambrosia. The beachy, ocean scent wafted off his neck as I moved my lips down, kissing off the raindrops that had beaded down from his hair. Our mouths explored one another much longer than five minutes.

"Juliette… went… out… to… pick… up… dinner…" He said between kissing from my ear back to my lips. He leaned away from me. "I've got to get back inside. She could pull up any second."

"Don't go. Feign a robbery, a murder, a murder and a robbery. Feign something, but don't go back in."

"I have to go back." He held my face in his hands as that wonderful, toothy grin emerged. "Tomorrow. Come by tomorrow night at the trailer. Juliette is working late tomorrow."

"Okay." I nodded as I held back the tears. "Just go before I drive off with you in the car."

Nick left as he walked hurriedly back to the porch through the rain.

All at once I was home. How did I even get home? My autopilot was on as Nick beat at my brain. The ten minutes it took was a blur. The usual scenery of shops and eateries on Northwest 23rd Street didn't even register. No, I didn't see anything but Nick's bright, blue-green eyes and that wonderful toothy grin.

I sprayed the car, washed my clothes, and took a shower to remove the scent. Tomorrow was too long to wait. Kissing him had just made it worse. There was an old Chinese proverb that said, 'Kissing is like drinking salted water; you drink and your thirst increases.' Those few kisses were like gulping down an ocean of Nick. Now I wanted him more than ever.

Monroe was still at Helvetia, so I was on my own tonight. I watched Friday's _Jeopardy_ on my DVR, but I couldn't answer any of the questions. The only one I got right was the when Alex Trebek asked for the first name of actor Nolte. Thank goodness I wasn't playing any strip games tonight. Although, then at least I'd be having sex instead of feeling like this.

After _Jeopardy_, I went to the kitchen. I needed something to distract me. I opened cabinets, rummaging for something to eat, drink, or clean out. The bag of passionflower tea was on the counter, but that hadn't helped earlier. I opened the fridge, and my eyes rested on the bottle of tequila. It was better than tea, by far.

Two shots later, I was feeling pretty good. I didn't need any men tonight... None of them. I had Mr. Jose Cuervo, and it was a happy union.

A couple shots more, and I was singing loudly with Avril Lavigne on my MP3 player as I danced around the living room.

"_Hey! Hey! You! You!__  
__I don't like your girlfriend!__  
__No way! No way!__  
__I think you need a new one…_

_You're so fine.__  
__I want you mine.__  
__You're so delicious.__  
__I think about you all the time.__  
__You're so addictive.__  
__Don't you know what I could do to make you feel all right?"_

Nick just needed to leave Juliette and come over. I held my phone, debating with my drunk self to call him. Dammit, alcohol was a bad idea. To be safe, I turned my phone off and stuck it under the couch. After more tequila I probably wouldn't be able to turn it back on anyway. Avril continued to sing from her hits album as the alcohol worked its magic.

Another two shots later, I was propped up against the coffee table, singing Avril's 'I'm With You.'

"_It's a damn cold night.__  
__Trying to figure out this life…_

'_Cause nothing's going right,__  
__And everything's a mess,__  
__And no-one likes to be alone..._

_Isn't anyone trying to find me?__  
__Won't somebody come take me home?_

I wanted them both. Either one of them could pick me up and take me home with them tonight. Hell, they both could come over and make my dreams come true.

_Oh why is everything so confusing?__  
__Maybe I'm just out of my mind…"_

I laughed in spite of myself. Maybe I really was out of my mind, or maybe I was just really drunk. No, it was definitely C, all of the above.

With the next shot I managed to press buttons on my stereo remote until I found Bowling for Soup's Punk Rock version of 'Lil' Red Riding Hood.' My head tipped back on the coffee table as I set it to repeat. The ceiling was spinning. My brain was spinning, too. Maybe Monroe was home by now. I could call him. No, I was too drunk… Drunk meant I'd tell him everything… No, bad idea.

The room spun a bit more as the song played for the third or fourth time. I'd lost count by then. Maybe Monroe could be a good wolf. Maybe this crazy dark side of his was all in my head. Maybe…

The loud knock on the door stopped my thoughts.

I lifted my heavy head and glanced toward the front door. It was all the way over there, and I was all the way over here. Hmm…

After several presses on the remote, I stopped the music and managed to lift myself off the carpet as the knocking continued. Maybe it was Nick… or maybe it was Monroe. Hell, maybe it was Bud with more pie. In my condition it was bad if it was anyone. But someone was knocking, so there was someone…

Slowly but surely one foot moved in front of the other until I made it to the door. I checked the peephole. Monroe. Crap… I stood for a moment or two.

Another knock.

"Are you gonna open the door?" Monroe asked on the other side. "Or have you had too much tequila to operate it?"

"Your senses are too good, Mr. Monroe," I slurred through the wood.

"So, uh, are you gonna let me in?"

"Umm… Can you come back tomorrow? Better yet I'll come to your place after work… tomorrow."

"Renée? Are you okay? Just let me in."

I leaned against the door. No. He couldn't come in. No… "Umm… Not tonight, Monroe."

"Come on, man," he coaxed. "Open up."

"Not tonight," I drawled out. "Respect my wishes… please?"

"Renée, unlock the door." The tone was a bit more authoritative.

"No, Monroe. The only way you're getting inside is… is if you huff and puff and blow the door down." I laughed loudly. "'cause I can't let you in right now."

"Ha-ha, funny." Monroe replied sarcastically, but he wasn't laughing back. Well, maybe I wasn't a funny drunk after all. "You're kidding right?"

"Monroe, I'm too drunk to successfully argue, much less kid. But I'll be sober tomorrow and then it'll be good."

"From your song choice in there, it sure sounded like you wanted to see me," he said as his devilish grin permeated through the door. "And I kinda like you when you're drunk."

I'm sure he did, since I talked incessantly about nothing.

"It's not always incessant," Monroe replied, startling me. "And sometimes it's really good conversation. Sometimes it's even better than good."

Dammit, talking out of my head again. No, he couldn't come in.

"I won't stay long, I promise," he continued. "Don't leave me outside in the rain. That's not cool, man."

He had a point. That wasn't very nice.

"Fine, but you can't stay," I replied quickly, letting my manners take over. I unlocked the door, holding on to the doorknob to balance myself as it opened.

"See? Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" he asked as he walked inside, surveying me. He was dry as a bone.

"Hey, it's not raining." I squinted outside. "And hey, I have a roof over my porch even if it was." I'd been duped, big time.

"Well, it might rain, so you never know," he idly replied, like that was logical. Perhaps it was. I wasn't the best one to judge at the moment. "So, umm how many shots are you up to?"

"Uh…seven? Six? No, seven…" I said while leaning against the wall.

"Need some help?" he offered, holding out his arm.

I nodded slowly. I took his arm as we somehow made it to the couch in the living room.

"Any rhyme or reason for the self-debauchery?" Monroe asked, ensuring I was seated before letting me go. "Or were you just bored?"

"Stressed," I replied with confidence. One word answers were good. I'd keep going with those.

"Why are one word answers good?" he asked while tilting his head slightly.

"It's easier than trying to form… full sentences," I lied as I leaned back into the couch. If I just shut off my brain then I wouldn't say anything more.

"I was over at the spice shop today, and Rosalee mentioned you came in, asking for something to relax you," he said, resting his hand on my knee. "She was worried about you."

That darn Fuchsbau shared everything. "Yeah, work stuff. Been stressed," I managed to say. "How was your meeting?" I asked him. He needed to answer questions, not me.

"It was fine-ish." He cleared his throat as he said it. "Had to discuss some specific things, but it was better to talk them over than just hold on to them."

"Oh, God." I rolled my head toward him. "Did you talk about us and the…?" I sighed to complete my sentence since the words weren't coming.

"Yeah, well not everything. I mean, they still don't know you see what you do, and all. So, I mean, I _kinda_ talked about the situation, just a little bit." He pinched his thumb and index finger together indicating his version of a little bit, but his voice pitched high on the word, 'kinda,' which meant he needed to spread those fingers wider apart.

"I don't think I want to know what you said," I groaned as my head rolled back.

"So, why weren't you answering your phone again?" he asked, cleverly changing the subject back to me. "It kept going straight to voicemail."

"It's off, so I don't drunk dial… anyone," I honestly replied, keeping my focus on the spinning ceiling. My brain was trying to push thoughts of Nick through, and it was taking all my mental faculties, as short staffed as they were in my drunken state, to keep them at bay.

"Well, no wonder it went to voicemail. You know that's not all that safe. Something might happen to you, or someone might need to get a hold of you, or I might leave more crazy voicemail messages… uh, like I did."

My head rolled toward him again. "Why are you here anyway?"

"Well, the first reason is because I was worried, hence the crazy voicemails, and the second reason is… when do I need a reason to want to see you?"

I stared at him, trying to interpret that sentence. My mental faculties could only do one thing at a time, so I gave up and just replied, "Oh."

"The big question is, why are you home, drunk, and listening to that messed up version of 'Lil Red Riding Hood' on some infinite loop?"

"I have a quite a few versions of that song, but that's a good one," I replied, dodging the question.

He scoffed then replied, "If you say so." His fingers trailed from my leg to my arm, then up to my shoulder. "So any reason you were listening to it?"

"Just thinking," I finally said. "I don't have a Helvetia where I can talk things out. I only have my music."

"Yeah, well, I guess you can't really share this stuff with Chloe, huh?" I caught him making a sour face before he added, "You don't tell her this stuff, right?"

"Monroe, you ought to know I don't," I replied as I chuckled. "She'd have killed you by now if I had."

"While that's, umm, not at all comforting." He shifted uneasily in his seat. "I guess it's probably better that she not know."

"No one knows. All my secrets stay right here." I attempted to tap my head, but almost hit my eye instead.

Monroe took my hand, gently setting it back in my lap. "I guess Grimms don't get the luxury of sharing their, uhh, secrets."

"Not these kinds." I sighed. "Not… at…. all." I swished my finger in time with the words. My brain was still pushing on thoughts of Nick, secrets I really couldn't share. I bit my tongue hard. I was too drunk for it to hurt, but maybe it would swell up and I'd be safe.

"Did you, uhh… wanna talk some more?" Monroe asked, curiously. "I mean, if it will help, then I'm willing to."

"Not like this." I shook my head as the world spun. "You're a lot of things to me, Mr. Monroe, but a therapist isn't one of them. Although… You'd look really sexy with your glasses, a bowtie, and maybe a pipe, sitting in a leather wingback chair and..." I bit my lip as I conjured the image. "Never mind." Wow, even I had heard that one come out aloud.

"No, you oughta keep going with this," he replied with an amused grin. "You have an odd sense of sexy, but now I'm interested where this leads."

"Hush." I scowled. "I'm drunk, and that's cheating."

He chuckled, brushing his fingers across my cheek. "Someday you'll learn."

"Don't listen to me right now. I'm having feelings, and smitteness, and emotions, and… lots and lots of emotions, and I'm in…" I held my breath, begging my drunkenness to shut up.

"And you're…?" Monroe queried. I glanced over to his smug grin. "I'm listening."

I'm sure I have a song that explains it," I replied. Maybe there was something that summed it all up, and then the song could say it, and it would be out there. Too bad no one had written one for something like this.

"It doesn't have to come from a song, Renée." He took my hand. "Your words are just fine."

"No…" I slurred. "My words are not good right now," I attempted to explain.

"Try it anyway," he coaxed.

Crap. I was too drunk for this. Too drunk for the verbal geyser to come shooting out of me and reveal every inch of my soul.

"What does a verbal geyser look like?" Monroe's grin widened.

"Like an alphabet soup explosion," I replied as I chuckled.

Laughing, Monroe said, "Well, how about you try words instead."

"Twitterpated," I replied. "I'm like completely twitterpated." Wait… That wasn't my word either. Wasn't that from _Bambi_? "I'm twitterpated and my feelings are spreading, and it's hard because I have to keep them locked away." I was quoting Disney. Yeah, the alcohol was winning tonight.

"The alcohol seems to have the unfair advantage, all right."

"Stop listening to what I'm trying to think," I said as I looked at him. "You're cheating again."

"It's not cheating if I can hear you," he reminded me.

"Let's talk about something else," I begged off.

"Okay. Let's go back to that other scenario. So I'm sitting in this wingback chair, right?" His fingers traced the collar of my shirt. "And you're lying on my couch, wearing…?"

"I'm drunk here on my couch, and I'm done talking about therapy." I held up a wavering finger at him. "Besides I've had my fair share of therapy for one lifetime, so…"

"You've had therapy before?" Monroe asked.

I nodded as the world spun a bit more. "Didn't I mention that?"

"Uh, no. But you seem to do that a lot with the, umm, not mentioning of things."

"Sorry," I replied. "The downfall to seeing this all your life is when you're young, you tell everyone what you see, because you don't know any better, and then you get pegged as crazy when they don't see what you do. I spoke of it so much my mom told my dad that I needed to see a child therapist. Dad tried to talk her out of it… And now I know why." I let out a sarcastic chuckle. "But Mom pushed, so I spent seven years off and on talking about my vivid imagination, popping pills, and drawing wonderfully accurate pictures of Wesen for my human therapists, who thought I was the most creatively eccentric child they'd ever seen." I was over sharing and rambling. I needed to just shut up.

"Wow, not so fun times," Monroe remarked, pulling me in close. My head dropped to his chest. "Sorry, you had to go through that, Hun. And here I thought just talking at my meetings was difficult."

"I'm sure your meetings don't involve crayons and puppets."

"No puppets, but we did have a mime come sit in once. He wasn't very, umm, _open_ to the idea of verbally sharing, though."

"Why does a mime go to a meeting to talk about…? Never mind." I was too drunk to try to figure that one out. I closed my eyes as Monroe's heartbeat lulled me a bit. "If it wasn't for Chloe, I'd probably still be in therapy. She saved me from a future life of insanity. I owe that bunny of mine everything. And then I don't listen to her when she's probably right about what I should do… When I know she _always _knows. Okay… Well, she told me not to get involved with you at first, which wasn't right, but then she told me to choose you instead of…" My hand somehow found its way to my mouth before I kept going.

"Instead of…?" Monroe questioned.

Thoughts of Nick tumbled from my mental filing cabinets, so I held my mouth until the mental faculties could corral them back inside.

Once it seemed safe, I replied, "You saved her life, so now she thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread. I think she's creating a Monroe fan club." I laughed louder than I'd meant to. That part was the truth. I just needed to stop talking.

"Really?" he chuckled. "Glad I'm in her good graces. We need to, uh, keep her amenable."

"Yeah." I nodded into his chest, stifling a yawn. Amenable meant…? Oh, too drunk and tired to recall. "If I keep my head here much longer, your heartbeat is gonna put me to sleep."

Monroe stroked my hair, and I nuzzled his chest a bit. He was so good, just like the 'Lil' Red Riding Hood' song said.

"I'm trying," he murmured. "Just try to, you know, make it easier on me, okay?"

I was beyond thinking internally. Shifting my head, I looked up at him. "I'm sorry for the huff and puff comment earlier."

"I'll forgive you this time," he said. "Thanks for letting me in, so I didn't have to use gale force." Tapping his chest, he took in a deep breath. "The ol' lungs might be a little out of practice."

"I have wind damage insurance," I replied. "I would've been covered." Was he kidding? I was too drunk to know for sure.

"Kidding?" He smirked. "Guess you haven't gotten to that part of the books yet, huh?"

"Guess not." Nope, none of my words were safe in my brain.

While laughing, Monroe slid his hand down my back. "I still dunno why you put up such a fight with me coming in, though. You got an answer for that one, man?"

"Because I'm stupid when I'm drunk," I mumbled. That was the truth, too.

"Drunk, yes. Stupid, no," Monroe replied, leaning down to kiss me.

"I'm more stupid than you know," I said against his lips. It was pointless saying it in my head, because he'd figure it out soon enough anyway.

* * *

A/N: Chapter 100! Woot!

So the Grimms just couldn't stay apart a whole weekend... Oh well...

Poor Renée has found her way back to the tequila again. I love, love, love Bowling for Soup's rendition of "Lil' Red Riding Hood." Check it out, it's on YouTube.

I love the word twitterpated. It's a wonderful word. (:

In an effort to maintain accuracy, your author has "researched" many tequila shots to ensure the state of drunkenness for these kinds of scenes. (I think I might have been drunk when I wrote this one... Not sure if I remember.) Only the best for my readers, and I will sacrifice sobriety for my craft if that's what it takes. LOL!

Somehow Renée was able to keep her thoughts about Nick inside her drunken head, although there were some close calls.

2 chapters to go tonight and only 20 chapters left in this story...


	101. Chapter 101

**Chapter 101**

Adalind called as I was sitting at my desk, doodling Nick's name on my steno pad beside his sketch. I'd filled the other page of drawings of Monroe's along with his name already.

"Hey stranger," she said in her typical artificial tone. "Haven't seen you at the café in some time. Everything well?"

"Yeah, just been busy with other people… err, things," I corrected myself.

"Oh." She chuckled. "Well, I'd love to meet you for lunch if you're free. We haven't talked much since my party, and well, I was worried my friends might have scared you off."

Adalind and I had only spoken once since her party, and that was over the phone. She'd wanted to know if I'd finished off those tarts of hers, and if my boyfriend had liked them. I told her he never got a chance to try them, but I'd eaten them all on my own. They were way too good to share. She didn't need to know I still had a bunch in my freezer. I'd eat them eventually, so it wasn't a lie.

"Sure. I'd like to do lunch," I said, checking my watch. "Give me half an hour, and I'll meet you there."

As I hung up the phone, I looked down at my paper, adding a little heart to the 'i' in Nick's name.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Adalind was already at our table when I arrived. Her artificial smile beamed at me as I sat down across from her. She and I had idle chit chat at first, but I was barely paying attention. Nick was gnawing to get inside my brain again. I missed him terribly.

Adalind held out her hand, and I looked down blankly. "The pepper," she said with a knowing grin. "I asked if you could pass me the pepper."

"Sorry," I muttered. "I'm a bit out of it today." I slid the pepper shaker in her direction, ignoring her open hand.

"What's on your mind?" she asked, picking up the pepper as she sprinkled her salad. "You know you can tell me whatever."

I nodded. "Just some changes going on." I shook my head. "It's nothing really."

"Everything okay with your boyfriend?" she asked.

"Yeah. We're… okay."

"Hmm…" She tapped her nails on the table. "Well, that doesn't sound too okay to me."

"I've just been a bit… distracted recently."

"Distracted?" Adalind leaned forward, resting her chin on the heel of her palm. "Like with someone else, distracted?"

My face flushed. God, was it that obvious? "It's just a little… Oh, it's nothing like a…" I stammered. I couldn't get the words out.

"It _is _someone else." Her eyes lit up. "So tell me about this new guy."

I chewed at my top lip as I took in a breath. "He's just a friend, who's become more than a friend… And well, I don't know what to do. I'm falling really hard, really fast."

"So is it serious?"

"It could be? I can't stop thinking about him, and we're both in relationships, so it's just not right. But then again, it's wrong not to want to pursue it." I knotted my fingers together as I spoke. "He told me he loved me." Chloe didn't even know this much, and I was sharing this deep secret with Adalind. That felt, wrong, too. "It's just a difficult, complex, situation."

"Do you love him back?" she asked candidly.

"I do. I mean…" My face flushed. "But I love my boyfriend, too."

She nodded as her blue eyes twinkled. "Sounds like you've got yourself a choice to make."

A choice. Oh, crap. The Two of Swords. A choice. Was this what the Gypsy saw? No, I was doing it again… trying to pin those cards on everything. But Adalind was saying the same thing Chloe had told me. I couldn't just keep doing this. I had to make a choice and be done with it. I had a Grimm Gemini that said he loved me, and who I could relate to, but then I had a Blutbad Scorpio that showed me he loved me on a daily basis without ever saying the words, but he and I were completely different creatures. Oh, this was too hard.

"So, what happened when you saw the Bee Whisperer?" I asked. I needed to change subjects immediately. "I feel awful not asking sooner."

"Oh, we're doing well. Since I went over to his house bearing baked gifts, we've been seeing each other nonstop." She gave a satisfied smile. "We're having dinner tomorrow night to meet his friends."

"Well, that's wonderful news. So he appreciated your baking skills, then?"

She nodded with a smug grin. "Oh, he seemed to enjoy it."

"I'm so happy for you. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. It's a dream come true." Her smile faded slightly. Adalind glanced down at her watch. "I should head back. Now you keep in touch with me about that new guy of yours. I want to know _all_ the details." Her artificial smile crept back on her face as we paid for lunch.

My cheeks were still hot as I walked the path toward work. Maybe I'd shared too much.

* * *

A/N: Short chapter, but we're back to Adalind trying to find out about Renée's love life. Setting the stage for Love Sick, coming up.

One more chapter tonight. Hope you're enjoying. Comments appreciated. (:


	102. Chapter 102

**Chapter 102**

Nick called as I was sliding my key into the lock on the front door. "Are you home yet?"

"Yes, I just got in. How late are you staying tonight?" I was supposed to see Monroe, and then I'd feign something so I could see Nick tonight.

"I left the precinct early. Come to the trailer. Yesterday about killed me after you left. I can't wait all the way until tonight to see you."

"Sure," I said before thinking. "Give me twenty minutes."

After I hung up with Nick I called Monroe.

"Hey, Hun. Are ya a little more clear-headed today?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Sorry you had to witness another tequila outbreak."

Thankfully he'd honored my wishes of going home instead of spending the night. I couldn't have afforded any more words. He'd taken me to bed, tucked me in, and I'd fallen asleep almost immediately.

"Eh, it's fine. You remember everything?"

"Unfortunately, I remember it all." My cheeks flushed at the thought of going on about _Bambi_ references, therapy, and bad _Three Little Pigs_ puns.

"Then you didn't have too much then," he chuckled. "I didn't think you had since you didn't sing anything last night."

I wasn't worried as much for singing as I was for talking last night. God, I'd been very lucky. Maybe some of that luck Waldgeist gene was in my DNA after all.

"Monroe, I'm really sorry," I replied. "You shouldn't have had to have seen me like that last night. And I'm sorry I turned my phone off where I worried you."

This morning I had five voicemails messages of varying lengths asking if I was okay, safe, home, asleep, or dead in a ditch somewhere. Needless to say, he was a little worried last night.

"Apologizes aren't necessary," he assured me. "So, when are you headed over?"

"What if I came over later tonight instead?"

"Do you have other plans?" Monroe asked suspiciously. "I thought I was your plan."

"Nick and I are really close to getting this database finished, and he asked if I could spare just a couple of hours over at the trailer," I replied as my stomach flipped.

"Can't that wait until tomorrow? I kinda have some things planned here and…"

"Just a couple hours," I explained before he could finish. "I promise I'll make it quick, and then I'll be right over." But I needed to be all Nick's right now.

"Well, just as long as I see you sometime tonight, 'cause these plans of mine, well they're kinda important."

"You will. Promise."

"I'm starting to really hate this database, no offense," Monroe chuckled.

"It'll be done soon. Thanks, Monroe." As I hung up, I let out a sigh. I was starting to really hate lying.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

In a matter of minutes between walking inside the trailer and setting my things down, I was lying on the trailer bed in Nick's embrace. His kiss was hot, passionate, and I was ready for anything with him. Our hands were everywhere. These days apart had been pure torture. It was all I could do not to shed my clothes and take him right on the spot. God, I loved him and he loved me. We were perfect, absolutely perfect.

We were caught up in one another. So caught up, in fact, that we didn't pay attention to anything else.

The trailer door and Monroe's voice knocked us out of our reverie.

"Can't you hear me beating the door down?" Monroe said as the trailer door swung open. "But I guess it unlocked, so that's, umm, safe. Anyway… So, you guys aren't answering your phones, and I thought, you know, you might need some help. I figured you were..."

We froze mid-kiss as Monroe glared at us both. Nick leapt up from the bed and I followed suit, smoothing down my hair and adjusting my clothes as we both stood.

"Dude, you better tell me you're practicing CPR," Monroe growled.

"No, Monroe," Nick boldly replied. "Not CPR." His shirt was completely unbuttoned. Oh, this was awful.

Monroe's red eyes narrowed into a fit of rage; red, vehement, and fulgurate rage. "Wrong answer, dude."

My heart stopped. Holy crap! We were dead and he was going to rip us to shreds! Monroe instantly turned toward Nick as the veins pulsated on his brow. Then his woge occurred. He was more wolf than I'd ever seen. The transformation ripped his shirt and jeans as he let out a growl so loud it shook the trailer.

Dropping down to his haunches, he brought his face level with Nick's. "Zeit zu sterben, Grimm," he growled. I knew the word, 'sterben.' That meant 'die.' Holy Crap!

All at once Monroe hurdled toward Nick, barreling down and slamming him against the trailer bed. Nick's breath seemed to go right out of him. With claws extended he slashed at Nick's arm as Nick gasped loudly. The pain didn't seem to stop him, and with both hands he pushed back hard, almost knocking Monroe off his feet.

"Stop it, both of you!" I yelled out, gripping the edge of the desk, but I was completely ignored.

Oh, God. They were gonna kill each other! My recklessness screamed at me to do something, anything to stop them. But how? Surely if I halted one, the other would seize the opportunity to finish what they'd started. I didn't want to hurt either of them, but this was all my fault. I'd hurt them both.

A second hard push came from Nick, but Monroe only wavered temporarily before he was back on him. Both men gripped one another, cursing and yelling. Monroe was lashing out with claws and teeth, but Nick was dodging it all. Monroe threw his fist like a battering ram, landing a punch right in Nick's gut, and he fell back on the bed again. As Monroe climbed on top of him, he drew his claws and aimed for his face.

I held my chest as I yelled again, "Don't!" Frozen in fear, I stood there watching as my recklessness begged me to intervene.

Before Monroe could use his claws a second time, Nick cast another sharp thrust into Monroe's chest, throwing him off. He staggered back a few feet, colliding into the apothecary cabinet, and knocking bottles to the ground in the process. With eyes blazing, Monroe clambered to his feet.

The gap between them was all I needed to let my own woge out. I ran forward, managing to slide in front of Nick before Monroe could charge at him again.

"Please stop!" I yelled. Monroe paused inches from me, but didn't reply. "Don't hurt him!" I begged. "Take it out on me, but don't hurt him, please!"

Monroe retracted and looked at me completely abashed. "I'm not going to harm you," Monroe said matter-of-factly. "But I'm going to kill him, so if you would kindly move it'll be over quickly."

"Monroe, you'll have to kill me first before I let you near him." I leaned back against Nick. "I mean it!" I'd wrap myself around him if I had to.

"Renée, move!" he growled at me, grasping my shoulders.

"You can't do this! I love him."

Both hands dropped to his sides. "WHAT?!" His body swelled up another half foot at least.

"I said I love him… and he loves me."

"Monroe it's true," Nick chimed in while holding his wounded arm. "We can't fight it. We've tried, but we're in love." His voice was shaky, but thankfully he spoke up.

Monroe tightened his face, flummoxed by our words. "What the fuck, dude? It's not April Fool's. Are you guys serious?" The rage was gone briefly. "Is this, like, one of those Grimm things where you play a cruel joke on the Blutbad to, you know, watch him squirm? Because it isn't funny."

Monroe was definitely not laughing and it was no joke. My expression told him so. The rage returned with rolling waves of fire in his eyes. I held close to Nick so Monroe wouldn't try to kill him again.

"Monroe, I care about you so much, but these feelings have been building up for Nick, and I can't ignore them." I looked into Monroe's eyes and my chest panged hard like my heart had been twisted into a vise grip. "I didn't want you to find out like this," I added sincerely.

Monroe shook his head in disbelief. "You don't really love him. You can't!" His words were forced from his clenched jaw, which was close to a full woge once more.

"She does love me," Nick told Monroe as he moved out from behind me and faced Monroe again. "She's made her choice."

"I haven't made any choices," I interjected. "It's complicated." They weren't listening to me at all.

"So, what, your woman rejects you, so you think you can just take mine?" Monroe growled out, his breath practically steaming as his nostrils flared.

With one hand, Nick moved me further behind him as he stepped closer toward Monroe. "That's not what happened." He craned his head to meet the inferno in Monroe's eyes. "You wanna say something, fine, but we're not gonna fight like animals over this." Monroe swelled up at Nick's brash talking, yet he didn't move. "But if you're gonna act like a Wesen, well then I have no problem acting like a Grimm. So I recommend you just respect her decision and go." He pointed to the door.

"Dude, you're so lucky that I'm back on my routine," he snarled as he looked down at Nick's arm, practically salivating. "A few weeks ago and I wouldn't have thought twice to rip your throat out and hand it to you for a comment like that."

Monroe towered over him, but Nick held his ground as if he were seven feet tall. "What? So, now you don't wanna kill me?" Nick snapped back. "Which one is it?"

Monroe eyes flashed a pissed off red. "Don't make me change my mind, dude." He turned to me as he grabbed at his wild, curly hair. "Renée, this is low, man. Really fucking low!" Monroe stormed out of the trailer, slamming the door behind him before I could respond. The tires of the VW squealed outside moments later.

"I need to go after him," I breathed out as I opened the door.

Nick pulled me back in. "Let him go cool off for a while."

I reached for his arm, moving the shredded, bloody sleeve up to reveal the long, deep claw marks where Monroe had laid into him. "Oh, God. This is so awful." He needed to go to the hospital.

"Ah, it'll be fine," said Nick as he held back a wince.

Without thinking I laid my hands on his arm, closing my eyes as I thought about healing.

"Renée, don't it's…" But his words changed to gasps. I opened my eyes and looked down at his skin. The wounds were gone, leaving only the bloodstains behind.

Nick ran his hand over his arm and his eyes grew wide. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to fix it," I said as my breath shook while inhaling.

Pete was gonna have a fit, but I didn't care. He was usually intuitive about these things, and his warnings still haunted me. I was probably causing ripples in the universe, but I couldn't stand it that Nick was hurt. As long as it didn't hurt anyone else, then it was worth it this one time.

I directed my focus to the mess of the trailer, picking up a few pillows off the floor and tossing them back on the trailer bed. Nick's blood was all over the quilt. It could've been so much worse. Turning around, I glanced down where broken bottles littered the floor, leaking out who knows what all over the place. Hopefully we wouldn't need what was in them anytime soon. I knelt down, inspecting the damage. If I fixed this mess, too, then perhaps it would make up for all the harm I'd caused. Miraculously most of the bottles that had broken were empty. I scooped up a few large chunks of glass, but then hovered, since there wasn't any place to put it. I could get another garbage bag from the car and…

Nick placed his hand on my back, halting my useless cleaning. "Just put that down somewhere and come here."

I set the glass on the edge of the desk as I trembled all over. Nick wrapped his arms around me. My body relaxed as I laced my fingers around Nick's neck while he kissed me. His warmth replaced my concerns.

"That was a bit much to deal with," Nick replied between kisses. "You know I could've handled him." He gave me that toothy grin I adored. "You didn't have to stand in front of me like that."

"He was going to tear you apart! I couldn't bear it! If you had died…"

"And that's why I love you."

"I love you, Nick."

But in the recesses of my mind, thoughts of Monroe came back though the haze. I loved him, too. Why was I still thinking of Monroe when Nick had me in his arms? This was so confusing. I couldn't love them both, could I? Not like this…

"You all right?" Nick asked as he stared at me. "You're crying."

"Yeah, just over-thinking," I muttered under my breath and wiped at my eyes.

"What song were you humming?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"You were humming something while you were thinking."

I rubbed my temple. "Don't know."

Nick tilted his head and hummed. "Kinda like that."

I held my hand to my mouth. Weezer. "The Sweater Song," I said.

"Don't know it," Nick replied.

"It's nothing," I said quickly. Oh, but my subconscious knew I was destroying my Sweater Guy. No, no, no… I wasn't doing it to hurt him. Really, I wasn't. I banished the thoughts. But what about Juliette? Was Nick having these guilty feelings, too? He said he wasn't, but I couldn't possibly be the only one, right?

"Have you told Juliette about us?"

"No. I can't bring myself to do it yet." His eyes shifted as they avoided mine. "But I will soon. I just don't want to upset her."

"Well, you can't live with her and be with me, right?" I pouted as he looked back into my eyes. Maybe he could? What if he and I just stole away to the trailer and loved one another like this? Nick could stay with Juliette and I could stay with Monroe. Then we could just love this way. What the hell was I saying?

"I promise I'll tell her soon." Nick looked contemplative, brushing his bangs out of the way. "I just have to find the right way to break the news to her."

"It doesn't matter what they think," I kissed Nick again. "As long as we're together that's all that matters."

Nick's kiss deepened, and I gave in to him. He hoisted me up on the desk, mouth moving against mine. I desperately wanted him. All we'd done was kiss and it just wasn't enough.

As if someone out there disagreed, Nick's cell went off. His lips left mine and he grabbed at his phone in his pocket. For someone who was supposed to be lucky, it seemed my luck had runneth out today.

"I have to take this," Nick sighed. "Burkhardt," he said in an annoyed tone into his phone. I waited as he listened to whoever was on the other end. "Yeah, I'll be there soon." He set the phone down. With a shake of his head he said to me, "I have to go."

"Duty calls," I replied while holding back the sarcasm.

Nick nodded. "We'll pick this up tomorrow." He gave me another quick kiss and we left the trailer.

I had to see Monroe. He had to know this wasn't… God, what was this? I'd never hurt him. But of course seeing what he had tonight sure didn't reflect that.

The drive was quick and Nick's mouth on mine drifted in and out of my thoughts.

"_Tempted by the fruit of another.__  
__Tempted but the truth is discovered..."_

No, but it was so much more than that. I couldn't define it… Couldn't explain it. It was overpowering me.

Monroe's car was in his driveway. As I got out, a loud crash came from inside the house followed by a frightful howl that chilled me as my skin prickled. Holy hell, what was he doing in there? I sat back in the car, pulling out my cell. On the second ring, the crashing inside subsided, but the trilling continued until Monroe's voicemail came through. My finger tapped the end call button.

"Monroe, you know I'm out here," I said aloud. An eerie silence from the house was the only reply. My recklessness said to go on in, but I was stuck to my seat like glue. The recklessness fought with my body, pushing me up and out of the car. Steadily I walked toward the porch.

"Monroe, talk to me," I said loudly. The light in the living room snapped off, shrouding the room in darkness as I peeked in the window. "Monroe?" I tried the doorknob, but it was locked.

"Go away, Renée." He growled, the foreign voice grating out my name.

"Please let me explain. This is…"

"GO AWAY!" He bellowed as the stained glass on the front door rattled.

Tears dripped down my face again, and I brushed them away. Why was I still crying? I wanted Nick, right? Or maybe I didn't. But then I wanted… My brain was malfunctioning like I'd swallowed a whole bottle of tequila. Oh, it was stupid to come over. Stupid to think he'd understand, when I didn't at all. With a heavy sigh, I walked away from the porch as the loud crashes resumed behind me. I closed my car door and drove home.

My chest felt empty, like someone had reached in and pulled my heart right out. I'd fallen into a nightmare, one I couldn't wake up from. How did I let this get so far out of hand?

Once inside, I headed into the kitchen, searching for something that would make me feel better. I pulled the tarts out of my freezer. Four and a half left. Why not? Calories meant nothing at this point. No, that wouldn't fix any of this. I pulled out the half tart. I'd allow myself that much self-pity. One half. I tossed it on a plate and into the microwave. If I was gonna have a real pity party, I'd break down and buy a container of Rocky Road.

* * *

A/N: Whew! Okay... So guess Monroe knows now, huh? When a fellow Grimmster friend of mine read this chapter, she responded with two words: "Wow! Harsh." I have to agree... We've hit more extremes and now we have to see how it unfolds... But not tonight...

Leaving you here for now. More chapters real soon.

Comments, thoughts, hate letters?

STAY TUNED!


	103. Chapter 103

**Chapter 103**

Blurry-eyed and headed, I awoke the next morning oddly content and incredibly horny. Nick and I had made love all night in my dreams. I shook my head. It was a dream, right? Dreams and reality were starting to overlap. The fight in the trailer… No, that hadn't been a dream. I was too dazed to worry about it. My eyes focused on the clock. Eight-thirty. Holy hell! I was late. Oh, this was bad.

Scampering out of bed, I flew through the house, trying to get ready. After taking a quick shower, I located an outfit that sort of matched from my closet. My autopilot must have driven me to work, because my mind was completely elsewhere. Somehow I'd managed to make it to the training room only a few minutes late. Tardiness aside, the training itself was a struggle. The wrong PowerPoint was on the screen as I talked through the session. My fingers fumbled on the laptop while I searched for the correct one, only to finally give up. I trained the old fashioned way... on the whiteboard.

By lunch, I wanted to go home. Unfortunately, I was stuck with eating something unidentifiable out of the vending machine while I worked through my lunch on a flowchart I'd forgotten to do for one of my trainings that afternoon. How had I skipped it? That was so unlike me.

Thoughts of Monroe surfaced briefly as I typed away on the computer. I'd call him tonight… or perhaps tomorrow. But if I did, what would I say? How could I face him after what he saw? Even if he'd come out of his house to talk to me last night, the right words to say were still lost. I'd figure something out. There was no hiding from the inevitable, but I could delay it until I could explain it. Then we'd find a way to make up.

Instead of worrying about Monroe, I called Nick. It went to voicemail, and I sighed heavily. I needed to talk to him, hear his voice, and tell him I loved him. He was probably solving a crime somewhere. As I hung up the phone, I took another bite of my mystery sandwich. For something out of the machine, it tasted really good. I glanced down at the wrapper. Tuna salad. Tuna? Holy crap! I'd already eaten half of it. I quickly threw the rest away as I shook my head. So much for vegetarian today.

The brain malfunctions continued the rest of the day. I facilitated my other two trainings in a haze of terms and facts my subconscious helped me run through. Run through? Go through? Complete. No matter. My trainees looked as confused as I felt.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Nick texted me that he'd left work early, so I went to the trailer immediately after I got off at five. Being away from him for this long was so difficult. Nick opened the door quickly as I knocked, pulling me toward him as he kissed me. I held him close and almost tripped over something on the floor while walking forward. My eyes darted around the trailer, and I stepped back, gasping at the sight of it. Drawers were pulled out from their cabinets, and the shelves were ransacked. Even the trailer bed was completely disheveled and piled full of stuff.

"Oh, God. What… What happened?" I stammered out, taking off my jacket. "Did Monroe come back? Did someone find the trailer? Was it robbed?"

Nick shook his head. "No, nothing like that." He tugged at the row of buttons on the top of his red shirt. "I've been trying to figure out what this goes to while I waited for you." He held out a green key.

I moved forward to inspect further, dodging the books that were sprawled out on the floor. "It looks old," I replied. "May I?"

Nick nodded and handed it to me. "Help yourself."

I glanced around the trailer. "Where did you find this?"

"I didn't find it. My aunt gave it to me before she died." Nick walked back toward the desk and slumped down into the wooden chair. "She said to guard it with my life, but she failed to mention what it went to."

I tossed my jacket and shoulder bag on the bed and then studied the key in my hand. It was small, yet intricate. It reminded me of a skeleton key. "Does this part move?" I asked as I pointed at the base.

"Yeah, it's like a butterfly knife."

As I moved the two bottom parts, the key closed up inside. The markings on the outside were grooved into a pattern. But of what? I flipped it to the other side, but the pattern was different.

I moved toward the desk. "What do these markings mean?"

"Markings?" he asked.

"Yeah. Look at the design on this." I handed him back the key.

Nick examined it again and shrugged. "Maybe it's just decorative."

"This isn't just decorative," I replied with a shake of my head. "Have you ever seen the movie _National Treasure_?"

"No." He smirked at me. "Is it another black and white film?"

I smirked back. "This one came out not too long ago." Did he watch anything I liked? "It's a great adventure heist movie with Nicholas Cage." I sat on the edge of the desk. "Anyway, in the movie he uncovers a meerschaum pipe, and the pipe's handle has a secret message on the markings."

Nick set the key down and automatically leaned back in his chair. "So, you think that these markings might tell us something?"

"Maybe." I picked up the key again and turned it over in my hands. "Do you have a piece of paper and a pencil?"

Nick searched the desk, producing both items. Holding the paper over the key, I used the pencil to do a rubbing on one side. I attempted to analyze the paper, but it wasn't dark enough. I tried to do the same thing on the other side.

"Maybe it's just decorative like I said," Nick explained.

"It needs to be bolder, like…"

"Like with ink?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied brightly while looking at him. "But you can't do a rubbing with ink." My shoulders slumped slightly.

"No, but you can use it like a rubber stamp in ink."

"Good idea!" I leaned over the desk and gave him another kiss. He was so clever. "Now, where do we find ink? Is there a stamp pad in here somewhere? In the movie Nicholas Cage used blood, but I really don't want to try that method." I cringed. Too much blood had been spilled in the trailer already.

Nick searched a few drawers, but then held up a square, glass bottle that was sitting on the edge of the desk. "I think this might be ink." He handed me the bottle.

I held up the glass, examining the black goo inside. "Does this come with a quill?" I chuckled.

"Have you seen the books in here?" Nick replied with a wave of his hand. "I'm sure that's how most of them were written."

Just then Nick's cell rang. Great, another murder or robbery. I should've spent more time kissing and less time with this key.

Nick checked his phone display. "Juliette."

"Oh." I bit back a groan. "I'll stay quiet."

"No, I'll just call her back later," he said and stuffed his cell back in his pocket. "Let's try this ink thing."

Nick laid out a clean sheet of paper while I opened the bottle. I poured a bit out, and Nick dipped the key in and pressed it down. It smeared all over the page in a huge, inky mess. The movies made it look so easy.

"This isn't working," he said while rubbing at the ink on his hands.

"Try coating it less and give it a firmer press on the paper."

After a few attempts and opening the key again, we had something. We had something big.

"Is it a…?"

"A map," said Nick, finishing my sentence. "It's definitely a map." He held the page closer to the lamp. "But of what?"

I looked at the markings, trying to search my mental filing cabinets for some recognition, but they were still foggy. "I'm not sure. It's a partial map… like there should be more. This isn't enough to figure it out without pulling out a real map and matching it up."

Nick's phone rang again. His ink-stained hands reached into his pocket, and I grimaced. "It's Juliette again." He shook his head, setting the paper down. "I've got to take this."

I nodded as I looked at the map once more. A map on a key… leads to… a treasure? Oh, this could be another adventure.

"Dinner, right. I forgot," Nick said into the phone. "Okay, I'm sorry… So, am I already late…? My butt is on its way."

I darted my head up at the mention of his butt as he hung up the phone. "Where does your butt need to be, Detective Sexy?"

Nick grinned, but then it faded as he sighed. "I kinda have a double date tonight," he sheepishly told me. "Hank wants to show off his new girlfriend, and Juliette arranged for us to meet over dinner. I have to go and make an appearance."

"You sure you have to go?" I tried not to pout. "I feel like I just got here."

"It's too late to get out of it or I would." Nick stood, wiping his hands on a handkerchief as he looked down. "I can't believe I forgot, but that's been happening lately." He glanced back up at me, tossing the handkerchief on the desk.

I walked around the desk and moved in close, my fingers dipping under his collar. "Anything I can do to change your mind?" I asked sweetly. "And I mean anything…" My tongue drew across my bottom lip on the last word.

Nick groaned. "I could meet his girlfriend some other time. Juliette will get over it."

"No." I sighed. She wouldn't get over it. She'd want to know why. "We don't need Juliette suspicious. We've already had one bad reveal with Monroe. We can't have your girlfriend catching you in a lie."

"Yeah, that wouldn't be good," Nick agreed. "We'll just meet back here tonight. Dinner shouldn't take long, and I'll make up some excuse to leave early." He gave me a kiss. "Can I still get _anything_ if I cut out early?"

"Maybe," I teased. "Depends on how early you make it." I held in my disappointment, but it was for the best. It was bad enough Monroe caught us. We didn't need to hurt Juliette, too, if we could help it. Brushing past Nick, I went back to the trailer bed to grab my things. "Call me when you're done. I'm going to catch an early yoga class and maybe get a run in. Besides, I have a PowerPoint to create, so it's fine actually."

"Be safe out there," he said as I put on my jacket. "I Love you!"

I turned back, reaching for his face and pulled him into a kiss. "Love you, too, Nick."

He reached for the paper off the desk. "We'll figure out this map thing some other time."

I nodded eagerly. "It must be some treasure to go to these lengths."

Nick smiled in gratitude. "But we're one step closer."

My brain thought of maps on the drive home. Where was this place? What could the key open? What other secrets did that trailer hold? This was better than any movie.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Nick texted me as I checked my mailbox before going inside.

**Can't wait till tonight. I can think of a few ideas for your offer of anything.**

I bit my lip as I replied.

**Make a list & maybe we'll pick 1. ;-)**

I missed him already. The phone rang while I sat my bag and jacket down on the chair. "I said make a list, not call me," I taunted, grinning.

"Uhh… Renée." The disdain in Monroe's voice cut through the phone as he spoke.

"Oh, sorry! I thought you were..." I bit my tongue before saying his name. Dire straits didn't play, so I should've known, but my brain wasn't thinking clearly. "Umm, how are you?" I said instead, trying to sound cheery.

"You shouldn't have come over last night." The darkness in Monroe's voice was as black as the night.

"You didn't answer your phone." My heart tightened in my chest. "I needed to talk to you." He didn't need to know I was still lost for what to say.

"I was a little busy…" His growl came through more than the words.

"Busy doing what? Breaking things?"

"I'm coming over and we're… we're going to palaver."

"Palaver?" Huh? Even words weren't sinking in well today.

"Chat, Renée," he scowled. "We're going to _chat_." The way he said 'chat' sounded more like he was gonna to be the one chatting, and I was gonna listen.

"Oh, no, Monroe," I said rapidly as I was already in the process of changing clothes. "I'm headed to yoga." It was too soon to see him. I needed time to think, and time to come up with answers.

"Then I'll go to yoga, too, and we'll talk there," Monroe sardonically said, halting my thoughts. "I'm sure that will be _so_ much easier."

"No, please don't do that." I sighed as held my head. "You and I can talk later. I promise."

"Why are you doing this to me, Renée?" he asked, taking me off guard with the question. He was good at that.

"I'm not doing anything to you, Monroe," I replied softly as I tied my tennis shoes. "I fell in love and I didn't expect it, but it happened."

"You're mine, Renée, not Nick's." His voice was deep and authoritative. He hadn't sounded like that in a while.

"I don't belong to Nick," I replied. Grimms didn't claim people like Blutbaden did. "I still adore you, Monroe. My feelings for you haven't changed. Oh, this is just…" I paused. How could I describe my own feelings when I couldn't understand them myself?

"Something's not right and I'm going to figure out what it is." He hung up before I could reply. I shook my head and went to yoga. Hopefully Monroe wasn't going to burst in and cause a scene.

* * *

A/N: Renée and Nick are both having trouble concentrating. Renée had tuna! Whoa!

We're back to story mode, with Nick trying to figure out what the key goes to. Renée changed it up a bit, using movies to help figure out the key had a map. _National Treasure_ might come up again in a future story. I love those movies. LOL!

So as they do in the show, Nick is off to have his double date with Hank and Adalind while Monroe wants to talk to Renée. Eek!

4 more chapters for now. Don't forget to comment. I need to celebrate hitting 100 comments on this story! Woot! Witchbaby300 was my 100th! Loving these new comments and new story favorites! Thanks for supporting me on this journey! (:


	104. Chapter 104

**Chapter 104**

Natalie was sitting in her usual spot at the back of the yoga studio. I smiled brightly as I laid my lavender mat down beside hers.

"Good to see you!" said Natalie once I sat down. "Gosh, it's been a while since you've been to class. Did you get any of my texts? My article was printed last week. Did you read it?"

"Sorry. I did get your texts, but I haven't had time to read the article." Honestly, I hadn't read her texts either, but I was trying to be nice.

"Oh," she said, seemingly disappointed. "I really wanted to know what you thought."

"I promise I'll read it soon, but I've just been a bit busy… being in love." I couldn't help but grin at the words.

"What? Monroe finally said it? That's awesome!" Natalie grinned back at me. "You should've called me! How did he do it? Was it romantic?"

"Monroe? Oh… No." My eyes instinctively cut toward the studio door. He wouldn't come here, would he? No, even he wouldn't go to that extreme. Thank goodness Scorpios were secretive. I glanced back at Natalie, whose wide-eyed expression said that she was waiting for me for me to finish. I could share this with Natalie. I could trust her. "I'm in love with Nick."

"Nick?" Natalie questioned as her hazel eyes seemed utterly confused. "Who the heck is Nick?"

"Nick Burkhardt is a detective with the Portland Police." I sighed. I loved his name. Nick. It was just wonderful to say.

"You mean the cop with the sexy blue eyes?" Her eyebrows rose into her hairline. "You're with him now?"

I nodded. How did she know that… or him?

She picked up on my puzzled look. "That's the one that questioned me about the art theft," she said in awe. "You haven't mentioned knowing him before."

I'd completely forgotten about that. Crap. "Yeah, well it's been…"

"What happened to Monroe? He's really nice," she said, thankfully cutting me off, because I had no clue where I was going with that last statement.

"Oh, I still love Monroe, too." I stretched my legs. "He's not happy about my relationship with his best friend, but I don't think we're completely over." Natalie was looking more confused now. It made sense, right? Well, perhaps it didn't.

"Monroe's best friend is that cop? Oh, gosh. So, you're dating… both of them?" Natalie asked with a bit of contempt in her voice. It was rude to let her know about both the guys I loved when she was still trying to find one that she even liked. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned it.

"It's complicated." I was using that word again. Why couldn't it make sense? "Don't worry about it. I'm happy, and that's all that matters."

"Well, okay." She shrugged and then stretched her arms over her head. "But it's just weird that you've found some other guy, when all you've been talking about is how you wish Monroe would just say the 'L' word."

I still wanted Monroe to say the crazy 'L' word. My mind froze a moment. What was I doing? I was so confused. I loved Nick, didn't I? So then why did it feel wrong all of a sudden? I shook my head. I really needed some Zen tonight to sort things out.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

The Zen didn't help, and my mind was still as foggy as the top of Mount Hood in the morning. I packed my things quickly. Monroe hadn't shown up, which was good, but I still needed to call him back and figure out what to say. Nick called as I was leaving the yoga studio, distracting my thoughts away from Monroe.

"Hey!" I beamed into the phone. "So are you done with dinner? Can I come see you now?"

"Well, not yet. We have a double homicide I have to investigate. It might take a while. Can you wait for me?"

"Oh, I'd wait for you all night," I purred into the phone.

"Good. I hoped that's what you'd say." His grin came through, warming me up all over. "Dinner didn't go as planned. My partner is… Well, I'll talk to you about it soon. I really need to go."

"Call me when I can come by tonight. I miss you already."

We said our loves and our goodbyes as I hung up. Drat! I really wanted to see him. I walked home and took a long shower instead of a run. A long, cold shower.

There was a pounding on my door as I was finishing with the hair dryer. I brushed my hair one last time and wrapped a towel around me, bouncing to the door. Nick must have stopped here instead!

I opened the door, but it wasn't Nick. It was Monroe. His wild, curly hair was wilder and frizzier than usual. Large, dark circles hung below his eyes. And that smell… Yeah, he'd been drinking whiskey and a lot of it by how rough he looked. Jack was no picnic when he was drunk, but a drunken Blutbad? What was that like?

I gripped the door. "Are you okay?" I asked tentatively.

"What do you think?" he snapped back, shoving his way through as the door flew from my hands, banging against the wall. He slammed it shut behind him.

"I'm thinking …" I gasped a bit. "Maybe you should have called first?"

Monroe didn't acknowledge my response. Instead, his eyes flared red, and the twitching began. I glanced down. Oh, crap! I had on a red towel.

"You need to get rid of the red," he growled as he practically leapt forward. I backed up quite a few steps as the twitching became worse. Before I knew it, Monroe had a full woge, so I removed the towel, letting it drop to the floor.

"Better?" I asked with a coy smile on my lips.

"Renée, what the hell are you doing?" Monroe practically moaned as he looked over my naked body.

"You said get rid of the red, so I did," I replied with a shrug. He had me pinned against the wall a second later, kissing me every place he could. He wasn't retracting, and I was in ecstasy.

"God, I've missed this side of you, Monroe," I breathed out as his mouth reached my breasts. My back arched in response to his sharp teeth grazing across my nipple; first one then the next… The pain mixed with the pleasure.

He went back to my lips, pressing them forcefully against his own until they were practically bruised. I ignored the taste of whiskey, allowing the racing heat to course throughout my body. It was the kind of heat that only he could give me. The kiss seemed to go on forever, minutes drawing out as the heat burned between us, consuming me.

Once he broke our kiss, his mouth trailed down to my neck, nipping fiercely. Although it wasn't hard enough to draw blood, it sure enough hurt like hell. I groaned under the pain, but he didn't relent. Hands gripped and tightened on my arms as his claws dug into my flesh like ten, tiny needles pressing in. I winced and let out another groan, but he only growled at my pained response.

Monroe abruptly withdrew his mouth and spun me around, forcing me to the wall. He planted his body so tight against mine that I thought every button on his shirt might burrow right under my flesh. Was he trying to scare me again? Did I wait too long to drop my towel? Heavy breaths poured out while his chest rose and fell against my back. A guttural growl resounded by my ear. It was unlike anything I'd ever heard, but then again I'd never cheated on him before either. This must have been what it sounded like when a Blutbad felt scorned. Oh, boy.

Another growl came from him as he his head dipped down. Heat brushed over my throat while he held my hair back, sliding his fangs to the base of my neck. Sharp points clamped down, dangerously close to breaking the skin. I shut my eyes. He firmly held his mouth there, his growl low and deep. My heart raced, but I kept silent while I waited for that excruciating pain of those teeth to sink in and the blood to flow. He remained poised and ready, but instead of biting down, he removed his mouth.

"Mine," he snarled into my ear. "You are mine, you hear me?" he slurred. "Mi…ne…" The word drawled out at least a few seconds.

I didn't respond. I wanted to reply, 'yours,' but I wasn't his… not really. Not anymore. And after our talk about that word and now Nick…

Monroe turned me back around, halting my thoughts as his eyes locked on mine. His were still a fiery blaze. "You can't be around Nick anymore," he proclaimed as he retracted. "You are mine, Renée!"

"But I love him," I insisted.

"Again?" He held me flush against the wall, shaking his head as he closed his eyes tightly. "No you don't. You love…" Monroe paused and opened his eyes. The angry shade was returning. He was a bit manic.

"I love Nick, but like I told you… I still have feelings for you. Even when you're like this, I still adore you."

Monroe backed away from me. "You're killing me, dude. You know that?" The words squeaked out of him as he shook his head again. "Is it because he's younger, handsomer, what?"

"Shakespeare said that we don't look at love in the eye but in the mind." I paused and squinted. "Or was it we look at love with our minds not in our eyes?" I couldn't recall.

"The quote is, 'Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.'" Monroe scowled as he spat out the words. "He also said, 'Love is merely madness,' and, you know, I'm starting to believe that one more and more. But I don't want to hear damn aphorisms or songs. That doesn't explain why you're doing this. I need your words, not someone else's."

"I'm sorry, but I don't have the words to give you." My head was too fuzzy to do this tonight. "I can't put into words what I feel or why. It's just there."

"What _you_ feel? What you _feel_?" His voice deepened once more. "Doesn't it matter what I feel? Huh? Do you realize how much I want you, need you, desire you? Do you know how hard it is not to mark you and…?" He stopped and finished with another growl, then muttered. "Not that it'll ever stick."

"It matters what you feel, too." I ignored his other comment. My healing ability would never let it 'stick,' as he'd called it. "I didn't expect this to happen, but it has." Why didn't he understand? If he did, then I could have them both. I still wanted them both.

"How long has this been going on?" he demanded through clenched teeth.

"A week… Well, a little over a week now. But I was starting to have feelings when Nick left to propose. Then when Juliette declined his proposal, when he got back…"

"Seriously? Are you even listening to yourself?" Monroe interrupted as his voice took on a higher octave, almost laughing. "So, you guys are in love after a week? Come on, man! I mean, think that over…" He laid a finger on my forehead. "What is your head telling you? It can't be ruling this one."

When he said it that way, it sounded ridiculous, didn't it? But I knew what I felt. Monroe kissed me hard again, running his hands over my body and down between my legs. A tremendous surge of heat began once more. I let out a gasp under his mouth followed by a moan as his fingers beckoned me onward.

All at once he let go. "What do you feel now?"

I grinned at him, near panting. "Monroe, you know what that does to me."

"But do you still think you love Nick?"

"Yes." No use lying to him. I'd done enough of that already. "But come with me, and we can continue that."

"Seriously?" Monroe let out a heavy sigh. "Go put some clothes on now before I just…" He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and held his head down as he shook it slowly.

I smirked at him. "Okay, but I'm all for whatever comes after the 'just.'"

He lifted his head, narrowing his eyes. "No, I don't think you are, Renée. Look, just… please just go put something on." Monroe sighed again while gesturing his hands toward my bedroom door. "And hide that towel somewhere for both our sakes, okay?"

I grabbed the towel and went into my bedroom. I was still tingling below from where Monroe had touched me, and my lips were near swollen from his kiss. He felt so good. I knew I loved Monroe, that was a given. But I missed Nick something awful. I just couldn't get my feelings straight. I donned a black t-shirt and one of my many pairs of black yoga pants then came back into the living room.

Monroe was sitting on my couch's edge, both hands holding his sullen face. He looked up as I entered the room. I smoothed out my hair and sat down beside him.

He tensed as I tried to lean against his arm. "Can you just not do that right now?"

"Please don't be angry with me," I said softly but he growled as I spoke.

"Of course I'm angry!" Monroe snapped. "You can't tell me that you love Nick and expect me to be happy right now. I'm trying real hard to keep my cool here, man."

"Do you want something to drink? Water maybe?" I asked. "I'd offer you a beer, but it seems like you've already had some alcohol tonight."

"No, I don't want anything to drink," he scowled. "I want to talk."

What he'd done moments earlier sure hadn't been any palaver I'd ever experienced.

I leaned my head back into the couch. "How much did you have to drink already?"

"Three…"

"Three drinks?"

"Three bottles."

"Bottles?" I sat up and looked square at him. "Monroe, are you… are you drunk?" If he were human, he'd be in an ambulance.

"Yeah, maybe a little."

A little? Holy crap!

"But that doesn't matter," he continued while holding his head. "Right now I need to know why this is happening, 'cause if you ask me, I feel like I've been dropped into some kinda bizarre alternate reality, and no one bothered to inform me. So you wanna tell me why?"

"Why?" He wanted a reason why I fell in love? That was like asking why my heart beat or why I breathed. Or was that from a song? I think that was a song… maybe?

"Renée… answer me!" Monroe snapped me from my thoughts.

"I don't know why," I replied. "I didn't plan this out or anything. It just happened."

"These things don't just happen." His laugh was sardonic. "Going to the store and, you know, forgetting the milk… that kinda thing just happens. But this… No, this doesn't _just happen_." Monroe's head tipped back onto the couch. "This is just dämlichkeit!" Monroe continued his rant in German, but there was no way I was able to translate it all.

"You're gonna have to talk to me in English," I finally said between his blabbering.

He stopped and lolled his head toward me. "It doesn't matter the language. I would've done anything for you… Anything. And this… You don't just do this… and…" Then the German came out again. Apparently alcohol made him chatty, too.

More words I couldn't comprehend sprung out in slurs as his hands animatedly waved along with the dialogue. Bits of English were thrown in, and something about his ex, Angelina, and someone named Adam, and then back to more German. His version of chatty was way beyond my drunken conversations.

Then the words ceased as his face darkened, intensifying the bags under his eyes. He was back on my mouth, hot and aggressive. I tried to gasp for air, but it was pointless.

All at once he let up, and I sucked in a shaky breath. I needed to understand German better.

"Tell me you're mine." He glowered while his face remained hard. "Tell me this isn't happening, that you're committed to me, and I'll forgive this. Make your choice now."

"I can't choose," I said between breaths. "I don't want to choose."

Monroe sat up, rolling his shoulders and balling his hands into fists.

"Monroe, please." I reached for his hand, but he moved it away. "We can still make this work, right?"

"Make this work?" He jerked his head toward me. "Are you serious? No! No we can't. You loving Nick kinda stymies the whole making it work thing." He stood and looked down at me. "What happened to us?"

"Nothing." Maybe I didn't understand the question because he glared at me.

"Well, _something_ must've happened to be all in love with the half-wit Grimm all of a sudden."

"Hey, he's not a half-wit!" I protested.

"A couple of weeks ago you would've been the one calling him that, not me."

"Well, maybe I didn't see his potential until recently."

"Was it because of that one night? Because of what I said that scared you?" His eyes shot up. "But that was… less than a week ago. Oh man…" he growled as a light bulb seemed to turn on above his head. "So, you were with him and me... like, together? Like, at the same time? I mean, not really at the same time, but…" His sigh finished his sentence.

"There were only a few times I saw you both in the same day." I pursed my lips as I held in my breath. Thank goodness he didn't know about the dream.

His hand clasped his forehead as his chest swelled. "You've lost your fucking mind!" he yelled, having a woge as he snarled. He retracted as he towered over me, grabbing at his hair again until it was sticking straight up. "I don't know why I even bothered to come over here."

The fire in his eyes burned me to pieces, but the fire in his words was what did me in. Tears welled up in my eyes, trickling down my cheeks. I held my arms, trying not to shake.

"Oh, _now_ you want to have emotions?" he scoffed as he threw his hands up in the air.

I wiped the tears away. "Of course I have emotions." The glaring continued. "That's all I have right now."

"Yeah, well, obviously they're being spread all over town." He groaned.

"Monroe, I…" The words lodged in my throat. No, I couldn't say it. Saying the crazy 'L' word right now would just sound like I was throwing it out there. "I adore you, Monroe. And now I also love Nick. I can't explain myself. But please know that I never meant to hurt you. I would _never_ hurt you."

"Well, you have and you did. More than anyone ever has." His eyes were red, but not from the woge this time. "If you love him, then be with him. I'm done, man. So incredibly done!" Monroe growled and turned, bounding for my front door. "Sour grapes, Renée," he muttered loudly while he yanked at the doorknob. "Fucking, sour grapes."

"Don't go!" I yelled at Monroe, but the door slammed shut before I could say anything further. I hovered on my couch, waiting the obligatory 'he's going to come back' ten seconds, but he didn't return.

I ran across the living room and opened the door. The VW was already driving off my street with two red tail lights glowing as intense as his eyes. My heart sank to the floor, and I cried again. Singing softly, I closed the door and walked back to my couch.

"_Torn between two lovers,__  
__Feeling like a fool.__  
__Loving you both is breaking all the rules."_

* * *

A/N: Whew! Okay! So that conversation didn't go so well... Renée is still having trouble saying the right thing, so that didn't help either.

I think Renée surprised Natalie a bit, too, huh?

Dear readers, are you still with me? We're getting to the last of the big extremes, so stay with me and keep reading. (:

3 more chapters for now. (:


	105. Chapter 105

**Chapter 105**

The phone playing Dire Straits woke me up off the couch, interrupting horrible dreams of Nick killing Monroe and mounting his head on the wall in victory.

"Hey!" Nick said in a rushed tone.

"I thought you'd forgotten about me," I replied while keeping my southern drawl in check.

"No, of course not. We had a slight problem at the station. Sergeant Wu passed out. I'm at the hospital with him. Apparently he has some disorder called pica."

"Pica?" I sat up on the couch. "I've heard of that. It's where you eat random things. I think they've linked it to a form of obsessive compulsive disorder."

"Yeah, that's it," replied Nick with a sigh. "He's been eating everything from paper clips and coins to Chapstick."

"Oh, no. That's not good. Is he going to be all right?"

"Yeah. They caught it in time. The doctors say it didn't cause permanent damage, and they were able to get all the… _things_ out of him."

My heart ached. "Stay with him, and we'll get together tomorrow."

"No, I want to see you tonight," Nick said hastily. "Give me an hour here, and I'll call you when I'm done."

"Okay. But don't keep me waiting too long."

I hung up and stretched. I'd been asleep a few hours. I tried to call Monroe. Maybe he'd calmed down by now. The phone trilled a few times then went to voicemail. Yeah, he was still upset. I didn't leave a message. What else could I possibly say?

My brain didn't want to think anymore, so I idly flipped channels until I ran across the original movie _Sabrina_. As it played, I settled back, watching the TV to drown out my other thoughts.

David Larabee had finally reciprocated Sabrina's love, but then his brother Linus came into view. For a time Sabrina loved them both, but she couldn't deny that Linus Larabee was who she really wanted. But who wouldn't want a guy like Humphrey Bogart? Why did the movies make even the most complicated love seem so easy to figure out? Everyone knew Sabrina was going to choose Linus. It was the same formula for _Bridget Jones's Diary_. Clearly Mark Darcy was going to get the girl. Why did I have to choose at all? Why couldn't my ending be that I had two men whom I loved dearly?

I recalled the movie I'd watched at Natalie's. Reese Witherspoon had asked her BFF in _This Means War_, "Do you think it's possible to love two people equally?"

Her friend had replied, "Love, yes. Be in love, no."

My BFF had told me to shut the fuck up and stop being stupid. I didn't need to call Chloe tonight to get that answer again.

In that movie, two best friends had fought over Reese, but even after she chose Chris Pine, the guys remained friends afterwards. Well, that was obviously fiction. There was no way in hell Nick and Monroe were going to be chummy after this, and that was my fault. No matter who I chose, I was hurting someone else.

I continued to watch _Sabrina_. Humphrey Bogart's plaid bowtie brought back memories of Monroe in Kentucky. Monroe was there for me when I needed him most. He was always there for me. Nick was just… there. And sometimes that wasn't even true if he got a phone call. I touched my cheeks, which were wet with tears. Darn sappy movies.

I sighed heavily and called Monroe a second time, drying my eyes. More trilling and another voicemail. Dammit! He didn't really mean we were done for good, did he? He couldn't possibly.

As Linus reached out to embrace Sabrina while they were on the boat to France, my cell phone rang. I reached out to grab the phone off my coffee table, expecting it to be Monroe, but it was Nick. What number was he calling me from?

"Renée, I'm sorry about tonight. I know it's late, but will you please meet me at the trailer?" Nick asked with a need in his voice. I loved that need he had for me.

"Sure, I'm still awake. Where are you? I don't recognize the number."

"I'm leaving the hospital now. My cell died, so I had to call you before I left."

"Is that sergeant guy okay?"

"Yeah. Wu is gonna be fine. They said he oughta be able to go home tomorrow. Right now I need you. I need someone who understands me tonight."

"Give me a moment to get ready, and I'll be there soon."

I went to my closet, lingering toward the back. I pulled out my red, button-down blouse that I hadn't seen in ages. When it came to my wardrobe, it was easier to date Nick than Monroe. With Nick I could wear any color in the rainbow. Sure, I was enthralled with the Blutbad, but Nick was human. Granted, I wasn't fully human myself, but I was half-human. And Nick was a Gemini. We were a good match.

I eyed myself in the mirror, and I couldn't help but smile as the bold red reflected back at me. The fiery highlights in my hair were all aglow, and as I thought of Nick, I forced my eyes to glow, too. The green light was bright. I was in love. I donned a black A-line skirt and my red heels. I pulled out my ruby necklace, and I felt incredibly sexy. I'd missed red.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

On the drive to the trailer I hummed 'La Vie en Rose' from the _Sabrina_ movie while I thought about Monroe, then Nick again. No, I was still sure I loved them both.

I only had to knock once before Nick answered the trailer door. He seemed frustrated, but all that melted away from his face when he looked at me.

"How are you doing?" I asked with concern.

"Not so hot." He shook his head as I entered. "Thank goodness you came. It's been one hell of a night." He went through the trail of events from the dinner and the dead bodies to Sergeant Wu as I tidied up the trailer bed. His night definitely seemed hellacious.

Once the bed was empty, Nick sat down, clasping both knees with his hands. "I can't believe that damn Hexenbiest is dating Hank!" He was pissed. His brow furrowed as much as Monroe's.

I leaned against him on the trailer bed. There needed to be less talking and more other things going on in this bed. He turned toward me, taking me into his arms, and I kissed him deeply.

"You know what? Instead of talking about Hank's poor choices, I'd really like to hear that list I asked you to come up with," I said with a coy smile on my lips.

"Well, I didn't get far since it was such a bad night." Nick tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "But I think I can improvise."

"I like the sound of that."

"I think for my list to work," he smirked, "we'll need less clothes than this."

"That I can oblige," I breathed as I unbuttoned my blouse. I wanted them both, and dammit, I'd just have both.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Nick asked pensively. "I know you said you wanted to wait until…"

"Less talking, more this," I replied, taking his mouth to mine.

"Oh, yeah," he murmured. "I like this much better than talking about Hexenbiests."

Nick kissed down my chest and across my bra line. His lips on my skin felt so good, but they were nothing like Monroe's, whose lips jolted a delicious heat down to my core. That was slightly disappointing.

Nick took off his blue dress shirt, and I bit my lip as my eyes traveled down his body. Strong arms and a very nice chest. He was Detective Super Sexy.

"Oh my," I stammered out. "You're even better looking than in my dreams." I ran my fingers through his wisps of dark chest hair as my eyes cascaded down further to his navy blue dress pants. He was already pretty excited from to look of it.

"What, you dreamed about me?" he smirked.

"Oh, many times, Detective Sexy."

"Yeah, I've been having some pretty vivid dreams about you, too." Nick slid my blouse off completely, discarding it on the bed. "God, you're beautiful," he said as his eyes seemed to almost drink me in. And I still had plenty more to take off. "Yeah, and those dreams didn't do you justice, either." He took hold of my face, kissing me some more.

"See, much better than talking shop," I breathed out once he let go of my lips.

Nick grinned as he replied, "It's gonna be even better soon." He slid down my bra strap, kissing my bare shoulder as I closed my eyes. "No more talking about Hank or Adalind."

My eyes popped open. "Adalind?"

"Yeah, the Hexenbiest," he murmured, still kissing down my body as it tensed under his mouth. No... It couldn't be. But, the name was so unique.

I swallowed hard as I asked, "Blonde with blue eyes? A lawyer?"

"Yeah..." Nick stopped abruptly to look up at me. "How do you know that?"

Fuck!

"I've been having lunch with her since I practically moved here," I gasped.

"You have?" His eyes grew wide. "You sure it's her?"

"Adalind Schade?"

"Dammit, yeah that's her." Nick's eyes widened. "How did you meet her?"

"Like I said, we have lunch. She works at the law firm near the bank, so we met at one of the cafés nearby work and started conversing."

"So, all you've done is just have lunch with her?"

"No, I went to a party at her condo right before you left on your getaway with Juliette."

The ad executive came back to mind. Of course it was inconceivable for there to be only one Hexenbiest. They just didn't operate that way. Dammit, Renée! But I'd touched Adalind and the others, and there wasn't a cold chill. Maybe I didn't do it correctly. Either way, I'd been duped. Dammit!

"Renée, this isn't good." The kissing stopped, and Nick's eyes filled with concern. "She's the same Hexenbiest I told you about that tried to kill Aunt Marie in the hospital."

"It was her?" I held my hand to my mouth. "You never told me her name."

If Adalind knew about Grimms, then she must have known all about me, too. This wasn't making sense. Why would Adalind try to befriend me?

"Couldn't you tell what she was?" Nick asked incredulously.

"No, she's never had a woge or let on that she wasn't human," I responded while shaking my head slowly. "But when I was at her condo, one of her friends had a woge and then they panicked. I thought it was odd since I didn't let on that I saw her." I held my head and cursed under my breath. "I knew something was off about that night."

"What did her friend woge into?"

I gave him a sigh, lifting my chin. "A Hexenbiest."

"Renée! You're smarter than that! Come on!"

"I know, but I touched Adalind and there wasn't a warning chill. Besides, I thought it was silly to think that she was one, too. I mean, she invited me over and kept trying to be friendly." Adalind had been nothing but nice that night, practically forcing her baked goods on me. I still had quite a few of those darn apple tarts tempting me in my freezer. "Even though she wasn't genuine, I just thought it was because of her profession. Lawyers typically aren't the most genuine people."

"So, she's trying to be friends with you, and she's dating Hank," Nick pounded his fist into the trailer bed. "Could she have done something to Hank?"

"Of course she could've. Hexenbiests are witches, Nick. They're always conjuring spells and Zaubertranks to get what they want. And if this one is plotting against you, then I'm sure she's done something to make sure your partner is enchanted."

"Zaubertrank. That's the potion one, right?"

God, he was so cute sometimes. "Yes, that's the potion. But it's more than just a potion Nick. It's like what Monroe was trying to tell you. Zaubertranks mess with your head."

"But why? What would she gain from dating Hank?"

"He's close to you. What better way to snake into your life than by using your partner?"

"I need to talk to Monroe about this," Nick surmised, "but I guess that's out of the question since he wants to kill me." He sighed and leaned back on the bed.

"Yeah, he's done with talking to me, too. He came over tonight." I shook my head as I held back tears. "It didn't go so well."

Nick pushed his hair back with both hands. "Well, we have to do something."

"Rosalee is pretty knowledgeable. Can we call her?" I asked.

He dropped his hands. "Yes, Rosalee might know," he exclaimed and kissed me again. "Good idea!"

"Can we call her tomorrow?" I suggested, leaning against Nick as I ran my hands through his dark mess of tousled hair.

"No, we better call tonight." He walked over to the desk and unplugged his phone from the charger. "But once we take care of the Hexenbiest, you and I are going to pick up where we left off." He gave me an adorable, toothy grin.

I grinned back as I replied, "Oh, you better make good on that promise, Detective Sexy."

* * *

A/N: Okay, so we took a trip down movie lane. We're talking movies where the leading lady has two guys they want and antics ensue... Poor Renée still wants both Nick and Monroe, even after Monroe stormed out.

We're back to story mode again. Nick's had his awful dinner with Hank and Adalind, Captain Renard's cousin Anton and Woosley the bodyguard were found dead, and Sergeant Wu went to the hospital.

So now the truth is out and Renée knows who Adalind really is! But it's funny that they think Adalind has done something to Hank, but they haven't questioned that maybe she's done something to them, too. Maybe they're just too oblivious? LOL!

2 more chapters for now... Let's see what Rosalee has to say. (;

Comments, thoughts? I'm all ears!


	106. Chapter 106

**Chapter 106**

"It's gotta be a potion. No human is going to just fall in love with a Hexenbiest," Rosalee said as she opened the spice shop doors for us. She didn't stop moving as she continued to add, "They aren't typically the lovable types." She climbed the wooden library ladder attached to the bookshelves and began handing Nick a few titles as she searched. "Who's the Hexenbiest?"

"Adalind Schade," Nick responded as Rosalee added another book to the growing stack in his hands.

"When did this happen?"

"I'm guessing a couple of weeks," he said, setting the books down on the counter beside him.

Rosalee paused. "That's about the same time Freddy was killed," she said softly. She climbed down from the ladder with another book in her hand. "Let me check Freddy's sales log to see if she's been here."

"Adalind _was _here," I exclaimed. "She was leaving the shop the day Freddy was shot." My mind went back to Freddy's reaction that I knew Adalind. Oh, my God. That's why Freddy was so freaked out. He thought I was a Hexenbiest!

"She was?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, as I was coming in, she was leaving. It all makes sense. She told me she was buying items for her party to bake dessert with, and then she said she was baking something special for the guy she was seeing."

"Well, the guy she was seeing was Hank." Nick shook his head. "That confirms she must have done something to him."

"Wait a minute." Rosalee looked at me with her big, brown eyes even wider. "So you were here the day my brother was murdered?"

I purposefully hadn't mentioned the day Freddy died to Rosalee. Crap, I should've kept my mouth shut!

"Yeah, I was," I said slowly. "I tried to save him, but I couldn't pull him away before the Skalengecks came out of the basement and shot him." Nick held my shoulders. "Rosalee, I'm so sorry. I tried everything to save him, but I couldn't."

Rosalee wiped away a few tears. "I wish you had told me sooner about this."

"I really didn't think it was something you'd want to hear. I'm sorry I mentioned it just now, to be honest."

"No, I'm glad to know Freddy wasn't alone when he died." She let out a breath. "I'm also glad someone tried to help him. So, thank you." Rosalee forced a smile, but obviously this was upsetting news.

I moved toward her and gave her a hug. What else could I do after telling her I'd witnessed her brother's murder? "I'm sorry, Rosalee." The hug seemed to take her aback. I let go quickly as I added, "Sometimes hugs help in awkward situations."

She nodded with eyes still wide. "If Adalind was here, then she must have needed something from Freddy. The sales logs are our only hope to find out what that was." She passed me another book and walked around the counter. "You guys keep looking while I check the logs."

Idly I thumbed through the book. Pages upon pages of Zaubertranks were listed with unfathomable recipes sure to illicit double, double toil and trouble. None of it made sense. Setting the book down, I leaned into Nick as I thought about Freddy Calvert again. Was that really a couple of weeks ago? So much had happened recently. Nick held me a moment and gave me a quick kiss. I looked up to catch Rosalee staring at us.

"Aren't you dating Monroe, Renée?" She eyed me with a curious scrutiny.

"Well, I was, but then Nick and I kind of fell in love," I replied with a dopey grin on my face. It was becoming so much easier to say.

She looked down at another book in her hands and her eyes shot up at me. "How long ago was that?" she asked as her eyebrows lifted. "You and Monroe looked pretty close the last few times you've been here."

This Fuchsbau really didn't need to judge me or my relationships.

"It was sudden, yes, but love happens like that sometimes."

"Not like that, it doesn't." Her reply was endemic, like there was more to it than what she was letting on. No, it was enigmatic. Wasn't endemic a disease? Why couldn't I think straight today?

"Rosalee, maybe we need to focus on the Hexenbiest and my partner," Nick chimed in.

"That's what I'm doing." Rosalee came up toward me. "Hold out your tongue," she instructed.

"What?"

"Just let me check your tongue."

I held open my mouth, sticking out my tongue.

Rosalee shook her head. "Nick, please let me see your tongue, too." She inspected Nick's the same way she had mine. "This is worse than I thought. The Hexenbiest has done more than just affect your partner."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You guys aren't in love. We have two potions going on here." Nick and I both gaped at her. Rosalee went back to the sales log and showed us what she meant. "These are two shopping lists that were written the day my brother died. Both lists include ingredients that are used in very powerful Zaubertranks."

"But we…" I shook my head adamantly. "I know what I feel."

"You feel the effects of the Zaubertrank," Rosalee merely replied.

The craziness of it all, and how quickly it had perpetuated definitely sounded like a love potion. The small voice in my brain pushed through the haze. 'You don't really feel it. You love Monroe… Monroe.' The filing cabinets in my brain were jammed, and I held my head while the rest of my brain fought with the logic. No, I also loved Nick. Oh, this was too much.

Nick turned to me. "You said Adalind baked something for her party, too?"

I nodded. "But it doesn't make sense. You weren't at that party, so whatever I ate wouldn't have affected you." I thought about the apple tarts. She was pushing me to eat them, and no one else at that party had any. It had to be something in those damn tarts!

"She could've given Nick something else with the Zaubertrank in it." Rosalee shook her head. "We can figure out what you both ate later," she said, directing her attention to the shopping lists. "Fortunately for you two, the love potion she gave you isn't the dangerous one."

"Dangerous?" I gulped.

"The other one, how dangerous is it?" Nick asked hesitantly.

"Unfortunately for your partner, we need to find the antidote fast because with these ingredients his is from deeply in love to deeply dead."

Nick and I looked one another with eyes wide.

"How do we cure that?" Nick stammered out as he looked back at Rosalee.

"I'm not sure we can." Rosalee shook her head while pressing her fingers into her temple. "It depends on how far along the emotional and physical relationship has gone." She looked back up at Nick. "Too far and he's… Well, we may not be able to reverse it." I knew what she really wanted to say.

Nick looked pretty shaken. "Okay… Well, we have to do something," he stressed.

"There might be an antidote, but it would take me a while to find it. First I would have to find out which Zaubertrank uses these ingredients."

"Then let's find the Zaubertrank." I reached for one of the books on the table thumbing through. "Wait a minute. What am I looking for?"

Rosalee wrote down the ingredients from the log for both Nick and me. "Read through the Zaubertranks on each page, and if it contains these three ingredients then let me know."

I nodded. Needle in a haystack work… My favorite.

"So, is there an antidote to ours?" Nick asked, looking lovingly in my direction.

I still couldn't believe it could be anything but actual love.

"Yours might be treatable, but I'd need to know what other ingredients were used besides these to be sure." She pointed to the sales log. "The ones listed here are minor ingredients. Fortunately the ones used on your partner are major ones, so there should only be one Zaubertrank that contains them. Yours may uncover several Zaubertranks with just these two ingredients alone. If we guess, and I give you the wrong antidote, then it could be fatal."

"How can we figure out the rest of the ingredients?" Nick asked.

"The best way would be to test whatever you both took the Zaubertrank from. But she could have mixed it in anything you ate, so I'm afraid there's no way to know for sure." Just gave us both a frown. "I'm sorry, but it's just to risky to guess."

"I think I still have what she put mine in," I said, looking up from the book.

"Really?" Her face brightened. "Then we may be able to reverse yours. But this one for Nick's partner takes precedence. We don't have much time."

I should've declined taking those tarts from Adalind. No wonder my love was getting worse. I kept thawing the damn things out and eating them. I thought about Monroe. Oh, Monroe! What must he think?! We'd get a cure and it would all be fine.

I looked over at Detective Sexy. God, he was handsome though. Maybe Rosalee was wrong and we really were in love. I sure felt complete alteration for that man. No, that wasn't it. Adoration. That's what I meant. Whatever it was, I loved him. I sighed aloud as I went back to the book. For now we had to help Detective Swagger.

* * *

A/N: So this was a mixture of the Grimm story mode and a discovery with what's going on with Nick and Renée. Both seemed a bit shocked at the news, huh?

1 more chapter for now. Hope you guys are liking it. There's still much more story to tell!


	107. Chapter 107

**Chapter 107**

Tedious hours passed as we scoured though book upon book for three ingredients. I had them memorized by now; Coeur Diable, which translated to devil's heart (whatever that was), Rot Inguen, which was red groin (I didn't want to know), and Essigblasse, which was pale vinegar (the only thing that sounded remotely normal). Sometimes I'd find one ingredient, occasionally two, but so far none of the books had all three in one Zaubertrank.

"We need another set of eyes to make this go faster," Nick said, closing his book and looking cross-eyed. "My head hurts."

"Mine, too," I agreed. "I'll call Monroe. Maybe he'll forgive us since this wasn't really our fault."

Nick shook his head. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, Renée."

"The worst he can say is 'no,'" I replied. Actually there were far worse things he could say. Maybe he would understand. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed his number. Hopefully he'd answer this time. The phone trilled three times and piercing music hit my ear.

"What now?" Monroe barked loudly when he answered the phone. "Are you calling to tell me that you and Nick are getting married? Cause, you know, after a week, that's the next _logical_ step."

"It's a Zaubertrank," I said quickly. "Nick and I are over at the spice shop with Rosalee. Apparently we've been under a spell by a Hexenbiest and now she's trying to kill Nick's partner, Hank."

"Hold it. What?" I could barely hear him over the music. "Hang on a second."

The music softened. "It's a Zaubertrank," I repeated.

"So, everything with you and Nick… It's a Zaubertrank?" asked Monroe. "Oh, dude… How the hell did that happen?"

"A Hexenbiest. It's a long story."

"A Zaubertrank by a Hexenbiest caused all this?"

"That's what Rosalee thinks."

"So, from what I can surmise from what you're positing is that you and Nick aren't really in love?"

"Right," I replied. He had asked if we weren't in love, right? Either way, it felt wrong to agree.

"You know, I was beginning to think you were off your rocker." Monroe sighed into the phone. "So can Rosalee cure you guys of this stupid puppy love?"

"Yeah, but first we gotta help Hank. We don't know how much time he has left. Ours isn't deadly, but his is. Can you come to the spice shop? We could use your help."

"We… as in you and Nick?" he growled.

"Please, Monroe?"

"Oh man…" he sighed again. "Yeah, I suppose I can come by," Monroe yelled into the phone as the volume of the music increased once more.

"Where are you?"

Monroe hesitated. "Uh, I'm out." The volume changed again. He was obviously moving around somewhere.

"Out where?" I asked suspiciously, closing my eyes. Amongst the din of the music, female voices were faintly giggling in the background.

"Well, I was feeling kinda beleaguered from all sides to say the least, so I, umm, went to Trop Chaud." He tried to sound matter-of-fact about it, but the guilt was still underneath. I picked up on that, too.

"I don't blame you for that," I said quickly. "Can you leave the girls long enough to help us?"

"Yeah, but I swear if either you or Nick even glances at each other… Well, I can't be held accountable for my actions, okay?"

'"Yeah, that's fine." I gulped in spite of myself. "We'll steer clear of each other."

"I'll be over soon."

I hung up the phone and looked at Nick in a panic. "Okay, he's doing better now, but we gotta… 'behave' in front of him." I used finger quotes as I spoke.

"Behave?" Nick narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean we can't be affectionate with him here." I pouted a little at that.

"Then let me get one good kiss in before he arrives," Nick said with a grin.

Rosalee stopped him before he could head my way. "Nick, you don't really love her." She gave him a disapproving stare. "Try to focus on Hank."

"It feels like love, though," he retorted as he frowned.

I really wanted to kiss that frown right off his adorable face.

"And right now your partner feels the same way about Adalind. If their relationship goes any further then we can't save him," Rosalee insisted as she pointed at the piles of books we still had to go through. "Please focus."

"There are other things I want to focus on," Nick mumbled as he reached for his book.

I was right there with him.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

More time passed as we kept searching, but we all looked up when we heard the jingle of the bell up front.

Monroe walked in, but then froze at the door. "Oh, geez. More red?" he scowled as he looked directly at my blouse. I'd completely forgotten. "Is this another test? Are you just testing me, because I'm really about to fail here, man."

His eyes flared scarlet while I scrambled for my black jacket, zipping it up to my neck. "Sorry. I'm so sorry," I mumbled.

Rosalee, who was also wearing a red shirt, tightened her gray sweater around her instinctively.

"Yours is fine," he said to Rosalee and then let out a breath as he walked inside, closing the door behind him.

"I'm glad you're here," I said softly.

Monroe shrugged in acknowledgement, but didn't look too glad to see me or Nick. At least he looked better. Well, he didn't appear as manic or drunk as I'd seen him earlier, anyway. He'd combed his hair down and had changed clothes. The dark circles under his eyes were still apparent, like he hadn't slept in a while, and his scowl was still etched on his face, coupled with a glare he gave Nick that said, 'If you try anything, I will kill you.'

"Well, you asked me to help, so I'm here," Monroe replied after a moment. "So we're dealing with more Zaubertranks and now Hexenbiests?" He sighed and then turned to Rosalee. "You're sure that's what's wrong with these love sick Grimms over here?"

"Yeah, it's definitely a love Zaubertrank," Rosalee nodded, "and it's a strong one."

"Witches, man." Monroe shook his head as he turned toward me. "They're bad news even in real life. I guess I should be happy it wasn't zombies, huh?"

"No zombies," I replied. "And it's just one Hexenbiest in particular."

"Just one?" Monroe turned to Nick. "Please tell me this isn't the same Hexenbiest from before with the whole aunt thing and the…" He gestured with his hands. "The whole, uh, other thing."

"It's the same one," Nick replied with a quick nod.

"Oh man… I asked you not to tell me." Monroe grimaced while thrusting his hands in his pockets. "So, what did you guys, umm, need me for?"

"The Zaubertrank that Nick's partner is under is deadly, but in order to create an antidote, we need to find the Zaubertrank that includes these three ingredients at the top of this sales log," Rosalee explained as Monroe walked over to inspect the log.

"Rot Inguen? Is that what I think it is?" He looked up at Nick. "And your partner willingly put that in his mouth?" Monroe made a disgusted face, blanching for effect.

"It had to be mixed well in something," Rosalee replied, "or the smell alone would have sent him reeling."

Who knew what kind of crazy ingredients Nick and I had in ours? I tried not to think about it.

"Once we help Nick's partner," Rosalee continued, "then we can work on the Zaubertrank that's affecting Renée and Nick." She pointed to the log. "These are the two ingredients that are in theirs, which creates a schwarzherz on their tongues."

"A schwarzherz? Really?" Monroe looked curious, and my darling Nick just looked confused. "I knew there was something going on, but I never would've thought to check for that one."

"So, we have black hearts on our tongues?" I translated the words, mostly for Nick's benefit. Where was a mirror when you needed one? Detective Sexy was biting his equally sexy tongue, and I had to look away. Monroe eyed me while I tried to hide my guilt.

"The schwarzherz bonds you two together," stated Rosalee, like it was commonplace. "Love Zaubertranks like these will manifest thoughts and dreams of the other person into your subconscious, creating an intense emotional attachment. It also has a side effect of poor judgment and lack of concentration, so it makes it impossible for you to accurately determine what you're feeling isn't real. It's like you're walking around in a fog, so to speak."

"So, they're love drunk," Monroe replied with a scowl. "Well, that's just great."

"In a way, yeah," Rosalee replied as she nodded.

"Is that why my head is all… fuzzy?" I asked. Everything Rosalee described down to the dreams was happening to me. Holy crap.

Rosalee nodded. "Your focus will be off and probably other things, too, depending on the exact Zaubertrank. Once the Zaubertrank is complete, the fog goes away, but by then it's too late."

"Well, that explains a lot." Monroe shook his head at me. "You've been acting off all week."

"I've got that, too." Nick piped up. "I had trouble pulling things out of the computer system at work, and it made no sense because I do it all the time."

"My trainings have been horrible lately, and I've been winging them just to get by. I'm forgetting silly things and words." Surely I sounded stupid, too. "And I'm going slow with these books when I should be… faster."

"Going slowly?" Monroe coughed out his correction.

"Thanks," I replied. I looked toward Rosalee. "You see? Is there any way to fix that part now? I know I'm useless like this."

Nick nodded emphatically. "I've got a double homicide that I need to focus on. Is there anything we can do?"

Rosalee paused as she seemed to think it over. "There is something, but it won't fix the love attraction, just the symptoms of the concentration and focus. It doesn't take long to make, and it should immediately make a difference."

"The faster the better," said Monroe. He turned back to me. "No wonder you couldn't quote Shakespeare," he surmised. "That explains it, all right."

"_Macbeth_ again?" Nick asked as he grinned at me.

"_A Midsummer's Night's Dream_," I replied.

"What were you quoting _Macbeth_ for?" Monroe asked.

I shook my head. "It wasn't anything."

"It was something just between us," Nick chimed in. "Something private."

"Dude, you don't wanna start," Monroe snapped back.

"I'm, uh, going to go work on that concentration elixir," Rosalee said as she ducked into the back room while Monroe narrowed his eyes, the red taking over.

"So, how many stitches did your arm need?" Monroe asked Nick with a satisfied smirk. "I'll bet it took quite a few."

"None," Nick replied quickly, his own smirk forming. "I didn't even have to go to the hospital."

"What, so you decided to act tough and not get it looked at?" he scoffed. "That's real smart, man."

"No, it just wasn't… necessary." Nick gave me a sideways glance.

Monroe darted his head toward me. "Oh, so you…" He shook his head. "Should've guessed that one."

I held my breath, but I didn't say anything.

He turned back toward Nick. "Man, if I'd known she was gonna do all that, then I really would've slashed your face... or maybe worse. You'd have looked like a dozen Siegbarstes had laid into you after I was through."

"I would've had you down on the ground before you even came close," Nick retorted with a clenched jaw. "I was only holding back for Renée's benefit."

"Holding back? Dude, I was holding back _way_ more than you were." Monroe spread his arms wide to emphasis his point. "If I'd gone full force, you wouldn't have stood a snowball's chance in…"

"Can we please not talk about this?" I begged. "We need to help Hank."

Monroe and Nick both glared at each other, looking more than ready to have a round two right in the spice shop. Crap. Maybe I shouldn't have called Monroe after all.

I walked toward Monroe with the copy of the ingredients and a book in my hand. "Let's just search for this Zaubertrank," I continued. "If we don't get an antidote for Nick's partner then…"

"Yeah, yeah, Hank's toast. I get it." Monroe snatched the book from my hands, never taking his eyes off Nick. "But I'm only doing this because I said I'd help, and I have no issues with Hank."

As I walked back to the counter I hummed Second Person's 'Fire.'

"_I used to play with matches when I was very small.  
Legends of wolves and witches I memorized them all._

_But he came right out of nowhere, like an unfamiliar tune.  
Sat down upon my armchair and opened up my wounds._

_I put up no resistance, so insistent was desire.  
But one of my addictions is I used to play with fire…"_

Why did I ever think that being with both of them was a good idea? Man may have invented fire, but women knew how to play with it. Chloe was right, it was a dangerous game. My desire was too great, too tempting. I'd played with fire one too many times, and now it had spread into a blaze I couldn't control.

Both men took out their frustrations on their books, flipping pages briskly as their faces held scowls and knitted eyebrows. It was gonna be a long night.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

The three of us continued to go through pages upon pages of Zaubertranks. Instead of looking over at Nick again, I kept my head down and my eyes on the book. I didn't want to upset Monroe any further than I already had. I hummed as I scanned the pages.

"'La Vie en Rose.' Now that's an old classic I haven't heard in a while." Monroe murmured, and I caught a grin pass his lips.

"Levee on Rose?" Nick asked. "What's that mean?"

I chuckled. In my version of _Sabrina_, Nick was my William Holden and Monroe... Well, he was definitely my Humphrey Bogart, plaid bowtie and all.

"It's French for life in pink," I said to Nick. "It's an old love song of Edith Piaf."

"Never heard of her," he replied.

"I have her singing that on vinyl at home," Monroe said, and I bit my lip. That was sexy. Mr. Monroe sure knew the way to my heart. He caught my lip bite and gave me a knowing grin.

"Well, I... I really like things that are French," Nick piped up while Monroe rolled his eyes slightly.

I was well aware the kind of French things Nick enjoyed. Geminis were very oral, in more ways than one. My mind lingered only briefly until I dusted the thought away like a cobweb.

It wasn't long until Rosalee returned with two vials of white liquid.

She handed Nick one. "Drink it down quickly, and whatever you do don't smell it. It doesn't taste bad, but the smell is…"

"Enough said," replied Nick as he held his nose with one hand and downed the vial with the other.

Rosalee brought mine over. I studied the liquid, which upon closer inspection revealed little, black things floating inside it.

Rosalee noticed where my eyes were. "You don't want to know," she assured me.

I took the vial, mimicking Nick, and held my nose as I downed it. Fortunately there was no taste, but I held my nose a few seconds longer to be sure the smell wouldn't reach me.

Rosalee took my empty vial. "Give it a few moments, and I believe you'll be able to tell a difference."

She was right. Things became much clearer. I looked over at Nick. Even with the clarity, the love permeated. That hadn't changed, but I didn't feel the fog as I had earlier. Now I'd be able to get through these books in no time.

"Thanks, Rosalee," said Nick. "Much better."

"Like he'd know the difference," Monroe murmured.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Time passed as we kept searching for ingredients. I felt eyes on me. Nick was giving me that seductive, toothy grin of his. He mouthed some provocative words in my direction while Monroe was occupied in his book. My teeth grazed the corner of my lip, and I looked back down. I wanted to be on those lips and to feel him say those words against them. My mind went back to the trailer, and then to Nick's mouth. Doing those words would be so…

A faint growl came from my other side, and I turned to Monroe, whose eyes were fiercely red.

He walked over toward me and leaned near my ear. "You're aware my nose knows just as well as my eyes do," he said gruffly with a voice so low it rumbled. "If you don't stop I'll have to leave, you understand?" He lightly bit my earlobe, and I silently nodded. "You're lucky I'm not biting you other places, because that's what I really want to do right now."

I gulped. I did some biting of my own as my teeth went sharply into my lip. I knew exactly what he meant. He wanted to stake claim on me, temporary or not.

"Look, maybe I should just go," Nick stifled a yawn. "I have to work in the morning, and I still have two dead bodies in the morgue with no killer to pin them to."

"Dude, we all have jobs," Monroe scoffed while shaking his head.

"I understand that, but maybe given the situation it would be better if Renée and I weren't in the same room together." Nick gave me a pained stare.

Maybe the black hearts weren't real. My heart was beating out for him like crazy. It was all I could do to not to run over there and…

"Yeah, that's probably for the best, man," Monroe said, halting my thoughts.

I turned and he tapped his nose and shook his head at me. My cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment. As Nick left the spice shop, a small pang in my chest surfaced.

Monroe seemed slightly relieved that Nick was gone. Good, maybe he'd forgive me and we could get back on track. I loved him, too. I loved them both so much. Ugh…

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

The books seemed to multiply as we sat for another hour reading. I rubbed my eyes while trying to focus on the words.

"It'd be easier if I knew what I was looking for," Monroe grumbled and closed his book, then reached for another.

"Any recipe with those three ingredients," Rosalee said, not looking up from her book.

"There's like a thousand recipes in this one," he sighed as he thumbed through the pages.

"Now this place could use a database," I commented. "I'm much better with computers."

"You're bringing up the database again, really?" he growled as he glared at me. "Isn't it bad enough you, like, used that as a pathetic excuse to research your libido?"

"Sorry," I replied softly. "We really did work on the database. I didn't lie about that."

"Yeah, and you worked on exploring the anatomy of a Grimm, too, while you were at it. Did that kinda research go in your database?"

My cheeks flushed. "No."

"Didn't think so," Monroe scoffed.

Rosalee's eyes shot up. "Do you remember the cop that got poisoned?"

Thank goodness she was changing the subject.

"Boil Dude?" Monroe gave a short chuckle. "Yeah, never forgetting that."

"When we were taking him back to his apartment, I mentioned to Pete and Nick that a friend of my father's had come in to my parents' shop with the same symptoms as what that cop had. My father said he had ingested a Zaubertrank meant for somebody else, which causes a boomerang-like effect, so to speak."

"Of course!" I replied. "Hank and the sergeant work together, so maybe Hank brought in whatever Adalind baked him, and the sergeant had some."

"Makes sense, right?" Rosalee waved her hand over the shopping list as she spoke.

"Does anything ever make sense with a Zaubertrank?" Monroe shook his head.

"Real love is hard to find," Rosalee reasoned.

Monroe met my eyes and we held our gaze briefly at Rosalee's words, then we awkwardly looked down again. I couldn't help but smile. It was hard to find, but when you found it no potion around could duplicate it exactly. Even with my crazy feelings for Nick, Monroe was undoubtedly the real thing.

* * *

A/N: So whew! More mixing of Grimm story mode and Renée with **two** Zaubertranks going on. I'm being a little creative with my own Zaubertrank. So the foggy-headedness and the confusion all makes sense now, huh? (At least I hope so.)

Monroe got to go to Trop Chaud after all, LOL!

Although Monroe is happy Renée isn't "off her rocker," he's not too happy to be at the spice shop with both of them, either. There's still some animosity between Monroe and Nick, too... Looks like there's still hope for our Blutbad and Renée with that mutual look at the end.

One thing I **love** about writing these stories is I get music suggestions from readers. Props go out to my-forgotten-rose for suggesting a group called Second Person. I'm in love, love, love with this group! "Fire" really fit with Renée and I managed to work it into the story last minute. So, maybe if you want something new to listen to, try this group out. I've been playing "Fire" in my car all day. Thank you my-forgotten-rose!

I was out at a bookstore the other day and they had a section of little music boxes. One of them was "La Vie en Rose"! I swear I squealed right in the bookstore, so I had to buy it. I made a little youtube video of it playing. The link is on my profile, so go check it out.

Okay, so stopping here for now. Hopefully, dear readers, you're feeling a tiny bit better where this story is leading. 13 chapters to go, so still more story to tell. Please comment, let me know what you're thinking.  
Thanks as always for reading and STAY TUNED! (:


	108. Chapter 108

**Chapter 108**

More hours, more pages. I wasn't finding the right Zaubertrank, but I could make a potion to change eye color, gain weight, grow taller, and a few that would produce an extra body part. None of these had Detective Swagger falling for a Hexenbiest. I glanced over at Monroe, who was curled up asleep on the cushioned bench in the corner. After being awake for almost two days, he couldn't keep his eyes open and had finally passed out. I briefly thought about Nick. Hopefully he was okay and had gotten a good night's sleep. He'd had such a horrible day. They both had.

Rosalee was massaging her temples as she pored through another book. I was trying hard to keep my eyes open as I sat across from her at the table.

"I found it," she softly said.

My ears perked up, and I looked in her direction. Had I dreamed her saying it?

"I found it!" she said louder this time.

"You did?" I asked to be sure I heard correctly.

With eyes wide, she nodded slowly. I stood up as Rosalee spun the book around in my direction. "Le mort pour l'amour," she said with worry etched in her voice.

"Death for Love," I gravely replied. French I had no trouble with, but regardless of the language this one was in, it didn't sound good. Oh, poor Detective Swagger was in over his head. I woke up Monroe.

"What... Where am I?" he murmured, but then he saw my face.

"Rosalee found the Zaubertrank," I exclaimed. "It's bad. Really bad!"

Monroe got up and read the book. "Oh, dude. Hank's knockin' on heaven's door if we can't cure him soon." Monroe ran a hand though his wild, curly hair. "You know, I've heard the phrase, 'kill 'em with kindness,' but, man, killing someone with love? I mean, that's some twisted, mumbo jumbo she's pulling." He turned to me. "You gotta call Nick. And can you please spare me all that lovey-dovey stuff?"

"I'll just call him," Rosalee interjected. We both nodded at her. That was probably for the best, because I really wanted some lovey-dovey stuff.

Turning the book, I looked over the Zaubertrank again while Rosalee talked with Nick about coming back to the spice shop. Amongst the list of ingredients was blood of the deceived and deceiver. Blood? How disgusting!

"He'll be here soon," Rosalee said as she hung up the phone. "We need to work fast on this antidote."

I glanced down at my watch. It was almost eleven in the morning. Fortunately, I was supposed to be working from home today. I really wanted to confront Adalind. What she had done to all of us was beyond evil. Maybe I could grab some lunch and have a little chat with the Bitch Witch myself.

I turned to Rosalee. "What can we do to help?" Detective Swagger needed help, and fast. Maybe I ought to stay here instead.

"Nothing right now. The beginning portions I can do on my own. It's going to take some time to make."

"How much time?" Monroe asked.

"Hours, maybe seven or eight," she replied. "So the sooner I start, the better." Monroe and I looked at each other. It was going to be a long day.

"I need to go to work for a bit, but I'll be back soon," I said while walking toward the door. If Rosalee didn't need me here, then I'd see Adalind. My hand froze on the door handle. Crap, my car was at Nick's trailer. He brought us over here last night. I turned to Monroe. "Could I get a lift?" I asked sweetly.

"Uh, yeah. I suppose." He stretched out his back as he got up. He was missing his routine today. Not good. Not good at all.

"We'll be back soon," I said to Rosalee, who was already pulling ingredients from the shelves.

Monroe grunted as I latched my seat belt, and I turned to his red eyes. "You smell like him," he said with a growl. "It's all over you and, you know, this small space amplifies it. And it's, like… Well, it's driving me a little batty right now to be honest, man. I'm really having to control my instincts."

"I'm sorry," I replied almost in a whisper. "We're going to be able to move past this once Rosalee gets the antidote, right?" I asked as Monroe began to drive. If only Monroe had a visor mirror so I could see what was on my tongue.

Monroe scratched at his head. "I dunno, Renée. I mean, for you to have feelings for someone else... especially for Nick... Oh man, I don't even wanna wrap my head around what else you guys have already done with each other... or, uh, to each other." He briefly squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. "I'm trying to understand it's the Zaubertrank, but, man, it's brutal."

"I'd never hurt you like this purposefully." I reached for his arm. "And even with the Zaubertrank, my feelings for you stayed true. That has to mean something, right?"

"It means something, yeah, but it doesn't make the rest go away," Monroe said with an odd frown.

My heart dropped to my stomach. "I know I can't erase it." I leaned into his shoulder.

"I realize this isn't your fault, Hun." He grabbed my hand. "But the Zaubertrank didn't make you lie to me every time you went over there and..." he growled instead of completing his sentence.

"No, you're right," I replied solemnly. "It didn't."

"That just exacerbated the situation, you know?" he said in a barbed tone. "And it goes back to the whole trust thing. I mean, if you'll lie to me about this, then, you know, what else will you lie about?"

He was right. I played a horrible game when I should've just told him. Maybe if I had, we could've already figured out what was really going on before it got out of hand.

"But how do you tell someone you love someone else when you also…?" I sucked in my breath. No, now was not the time to tell him. He was too frustrated. "Every feeling I have for you is still here." I touched my heart reflexively. "None of those feelings ever went away. This Zaubertrank ripped my heart in two directions, Monroe. I've been beside myself with guilt and regret and so many other feelings. And even now… Even though I know it's a potion, those feelings are still there, and that makes it ten times worse." I held back my tears. It wasn't fair to cry when he had every right to be angry.

"You could've tried at least, man. I mean, how did you expect to keep this going if you hadn't found out it was a Zaubertrank? Were you just going to keep sneaking around indefinitely?"

"No. But, my head was too jumbled to come up with a safe solution. If I'd told you, then you would've just tried to kill him. But that happened anyway, so…" I let out a sigh. "This hasn't been fun for me, you know that, right?" Okay, some of it was, but now was not the time to display it.

"Well, it definitely wasn't fun for me either walking in on you two." He growled again. "Nick should've killed that damn Hexenbiest when he had the chance."

"You mean he had an opportunity to kill her?" Nick never mentioned that part, either.

"Yeah. There was some case involving Mellifers murdering Hexenbiests, and she was one of the ones they were, you know, trying to murder."

Oh, wow. So, that was the story Adalind had told me about a guy saving her from a bee sting. Hank. It all made sense now.

Monroe continued. "The Mellischwuler herself tried to warn Nick about impending dangers, but instead of taking out the Hexenbiest, he iced the Mellischwuler instead."

"He killed a Mellischwuler?" I gasped. "Oh, that's real bad."

"Well, he was kinda new at the time, and he viewed the situation like any cop would; the Mellischwuler was about to kill someone, so, you know, he took out the offender and saved the victim. Too bad the victim in this instance was a Hexenbiest that's bent on making his life a living hell. And our lives, too, for that matter."

"She's not very grateful, obviously," I chided. "We'll fix this though. Well... Rosalee will fix it."

"I just gotta know… Well, I really don't wanna know, but I'm going to ask anyway…" Monroe stammered. "Did you and Nick, you know… Umm…?"

I knew what he was getting at. "No." The heat crept up my cheeks. "We barely made it to second base." A home run would have been better, but I shook my thoughts away. This was a potion, not real love.

"Oh… Ohh!" Monroe let out a relieved sigh. "Good. Okay then." He slapped the steering wheel and smiled, then turned toward me quickly. "Second base still means clothes on, right?"

I awkwardly laughed. "Yeah, the good parts remained covered."

He nodded. "Then that's good."

"You'll forgive Nick, right? This isn't his fault either."

"I'm helping him, aren't I?" he replied with a slight growl. "I mean, I know he didn't deliberately fall for you or anything, but right now I'm just trying to… Hell, I don't know what I'm trying to do, actually."

"He's your best friend, so you gotta let this one go," I said calmly. "Threatening him won't stop the Zaubertrank. I wish it did, but that's just going to cause another fight."

"Man, I've told you before, he's not my best friend. Good friend, maybe, but best friend? Nuh-uh." He shook his head adamantly. "And, you know, he started it with acting like he and you had these, like, private conversations I wasn't in the know about."

"Be the better man, and don't let what he says affect you," I reasoned. It took everything I had to say that. "Even with Rosalee's help with the concentration cure, neither one of us are still thinking clearly. So however you want to define your relationship, Nick is still your friend, so please don't lose that because we were poisoned, either."

"Just give me a little time with all of this, okay?" He let out a hard breath. "This has been kinda, like, traumatic, you know?"

"I understand," I simply replied. Best not to push the issue anymore than I already had.

We continued to drive in silence. The car was just too quiet, so I sang 'La Vie en Rose' in French as Sabrina did with Linus in the car.

"_Des yeux qui font baisser les miens.__  
__Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche.__  
__Voilà le portrait sans retouche.__  
__De l'homme auquel j'appartiens._

_Il me dit des mots d'amour.__  
__Des mots de tous les jours.__  
__Et ça me fait quelque chose._

_C'est toi pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie.__  
__Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie._

_Quand il me prend dans ses bras.__  
__Il me parle tout bas.__  
__Je vois la vie en rose…"_

"Back to 'La Vie en Rose' again, huh?" he asked. "You know, you sing that beautifully."

"It's a beautiful song, and it holds quite a bit of meaning." I replied softly. "Bogart's bowtie in _Sabrina_ made me think of you when I was watching it last night."

"It was plaid, right?"

I laughed. "Yeah, it was."

"I told you they were cool. You know, I own a few solid ones too, though," he added.

"Maybe I'll see the whole collection sometime." Perhaps they were in the same closet with all the whips and chains. "So, do you really have Edith Piaf on vinyl?" I asked with a grin, changing the subject before I thought any more about his closet.

"Oh, yeah." Monroe smirked as he turned left, the steering wheel sliding through his fingers. "I wouldn't make that up. I have quite a bit on vinyl actually." He had all those records under his player, but Edith Piaf? Yeah, that was still really sexy. "So, umm, did Nick not even pay attention to the movie?" he grumbled out. "I mean, he sure didn't seem to recognize that song."

"I didn't watch it with him," I awkwardly replied. "Besides, that's not his kind of movie."

"Yeah, I'm sure he's more of a _Die Hard_ fan... Well, okay, that's a bad example, 'cause I kinda like that movie, too."

"His movie preferences are completely different than mine," I said with a shake of my head. "Nick thought _The Maltese Falcon_ was about a live bird." I frowned. "It's a classic detective movie, and he knew nothing about it."

Monroe laughed loudly then said, "Yeah, well, you know… not everyone has good taste." He gave me a sideways glance. "I'm pretty fond of Bogart movies, too, you know?"

"What about _Casablanca_?"

"It's, like, one of my favorites."

"Mine, too." I nodded with a grin. That was also really sexy.

Monroe pulled up to the trailer, and I lingered in the VW. "We'll get back to our lives in pink, right?" I asked as I faced him directly.

"I dunno yet." He breathed out a sigh. "Just give me some time with this, okay?" My fallen heart dropped from my stomach to my toes. I leaned in to give Monroe a kiss, but he put a finger to my lips instead. "Not yet," he said. I leaned back in the seat. "Just not yet. Not with you smelling like him and…" He shook his head as his words trailed off somewhere.

"Well, umm, I'll be back at the spice shop soon," I said with an air of nonchalance, holding back tears. "I just have a lunch meeting I need to catch."

If I'd told him what my plans were, he'd have never brought me to my car. But my recklessness was in full force, and the woge was taking over. As Monroe pulled away, I reached for my phone and texted Adalind's cell.

**Having lunch at our favorite place at noon. Care to join me? :-)**

I received a text back a few minutes later.

**Sure. I'll meet you there. Can't wait!**

Even her texts were artificial. Stupid Hexenbiest! I had time to freshen up and put my plan in place with plenty of time to make it to the café. Pulling open my visor mirror in my trusty Malibu, I examined my tongue. There it was… a small black heart toward the back. I sighed and took off my jacket, which I'd been burning up in.

"No more red again," I said aloud as I drove home. "To the back of the closet it goes."

* * *

A/N: More story mode at the beginning. Rosalee finds the Zaubertrank for Hank.

Renée's recklessness is getting the best of her again. Oh, boy!

Renée had little heart-to-heart with Monroe, now that she can actually hold a conversation again since the fog has cleared a bit. But Monroe's not ready to go back to "normal" just yet.

I still **love** Monroe in a bowtie! I was so happy the other night when he was sporting another one. Maybe they'll dress him in a plaid one sometime. My heart might literally stop if that ever happens! LOL!

So... 4 more chapters today. Next up a little lunch time with Adalind. (:


	109. Chapter 109

**Chapter 109**

Adalind smiled her beautiful, artificial smile as she walked into JCafé. Only a few patrons were having lunch today, and fortunately they were far away from our usual spot.

I stood from the table as she approached. "Adalind! Glad you could make it!" This time I greeted her back with an artificial smile of my own.

I reached my hand out to her and she gingerly took it. The cold chill hit me hard, running clear up my arm. Oh, wow. So, that's what my Uncle Walden had meant. Adalind's eyes went wide, retracting her hand quickly, but I kept my face smooth. I'd felt that before. I thought it was just cold hands, but no… Adalind's hands had felt that cold once before. And then there was Nurse Wretched… That was more than just a bad bedside manner. But why didn't I feel _that_ at her party? We settled in our chairs and a waitress came by. We both ordered hot teas.

"How are you?" I asked almost too sweetly. "Work going well today?"

"Actually I was off work today, but I wanted to see you," Adalind replied, tugging at the edge of her blue blouse. "I'm so glad you invited me to lunch. I needed the break. I have so many things planned tonight." The waitress returned with our mugs and I took a sip, warming my hands from the icy touch of the Bitch Witch.

"Yeah, I'm working from home today actually," I replied. "I was poring over books all night. Didn't get any sleep at all."

"Aww, that's too bad." She cast me a disingenuous look of concern and took a drink from her mug. "So how are you and that new guy doing?" She changed back to her artificial smile. "Things still going well?" I wanted to rip that stupid smile right off her stupid face.

"Great actually. I might ask the same thing about you and Detective Griffin."

Adalind froze like a deer in the headlights as her artificial smile faded into a hard line. "What do you mean?" she asked. Her blue eyes bore into my own.

"Oh, Nick tells me that you and Hank are sweethearts now. Did you bake him some apple tarts to make that work in your favor, too?" My smile never wavered.

"No, it wasn't tarts." Her lips curved into a smug grin as she took another generous sip from her mug. "What I baked up for him was much more… potent."

"So, why Hank?" I narrowed my eyes at her. "What's your end game here?"

"Nick has something I want, and if he wants his partner to live he'll comply," she replied with a wicked smirk.

"And that is…?"

"There's a key. It belonged to Nick's Aunt Marie. You know, his _late_ aunt?" she taunted. "If he gives me the key, then his partner won't be harmed."

That green key with the hidden map. Where the map led was still a mystery, but I was working on it.

"That's not going to happen," I simply replied with my own grin.

"Pity. Poor Hank doesn't stand a chance then," she said matter-of-factly, taking another sip of tea and looking smugger by the minute. Why did villains always say the word 'pity'?

"What does the key have to do with putting me and Nick together?" I asked. The waitress came back to take our food orders and I shooed her away.

"That's for more long term plans," Adalind replied when the waitress had left. God, she was vague. I was going to have to initiate Plan B.

"How's that tea taste, Adalind?" I smirked.

She looked down at her mug and then her blue eyes flashed back up at me. "Fine… why?"

I pulled out a glass vial of green liquid from my jacket pocket and held it up for her to see.

"What's that?" she asked while her eyes looked intently at the bottle.

My grin was sly as I stared at her. "The antidote…"

Her eyes jerked back at me. "To what?"

"To the Zaubertrank you just drank, Miss Schade." I laughed as I recalled the Indiana Jones scene in _Temple of Doom_. Wow, I'd watched one too many movies. "So, tell me…" I leaned back. "How do you like them apples?"

Adalind gaped at her mug in her hands as her eyes shot back up. "What did you give me?!"

"Ever heard of a Zaubertrank called Versteinerter Holz?" Adalind nearly gulped at my words, setting her mug down firmly on the table as the liquid sloshed inside. "It doesn't take much and it works very slowly at first, but just like petrified wood, it hardens you from the inside out. Kind of befitting for someone like you, wouldn't you agree?"

I was completely bluffing, but I'd read about it while sifting through all those Zaubertranks last night. Let her think I'd poisoned her. It served her right.

The Bitch Witch leaned in swiftly and had a woge right in my face, but this time I was prepared. I merely laughed, which took her off guard.

"I guess that's why they say beauty is only skin deep," I quipped with a grin.

"I can make the antidote on my own," she retorted while smoothing down her hair. "That's not going to be a problem."

"Right, but you and I know that it takes at least three hours or more to brew it. In that amount of time your arms will be paralyzed by then," I explained, but she already knew that. She was testing me, and I had a darn good memory.

Adalind clenched her fists as tiny beads of sweat blossomed above her brow. "What do you want?"

"I want answers, Hexenbiest," I said quietly. I held the glass vial in my hand, shaking it slightly. "If I get the answers I want, you get this in return."

Scope mouthwash was almost exactly the same color the book had described the antidote to look like. At least her breath would be minty fresh when she discovered I had duped her.

She eyed the bottle again and then looked back at me. "What do you want to know?" She sat up straighter, more attentive. I had her full attention now. I put the Scope back in my pocket.

"Well, first of all, how much do you know about me?"

"How much do I know?" she laughed. "Well, I know that you're half Grimm and half Waldgeist," she whispered with a smirk. "But it seems you've already figured those two things out on your own. Funny, I knew you'd uncover your Grimm side, what with Nick and all, but the Waldgeist side… Now that was a surprise. I must admit, when I saw your necklace bearing their symbol, I had to hold back quite a bit." She tilted her head slightly with curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "So, where did you get that anyway?"

"I'm asking the questions here," I responded quickly. "At your party… I touched you… And you…"

"I what?" Her lips curved into a grin. "Felt normal?" she cackled to the point I thought her face would turn green and a pair of flying monkeys might swoop into the café at any moment. "That's a neat little party trick you have, but you see, there's a spell to prevent it from working. Didn't you hear?" My face flushed hot at her words. "Sadly, it doesn't last long, but it's good for a couple of hours; long enough for a party, for instance. My girlfriends and I got a hoot out of you trying to touch us; running around looking at watches and reaching for our arms."

"So all of them were…?"

She nodded. "You're a hot commodity, Renée," Adalind said as she continued smirking. "I know my girlfriends wanted a piece of you. They were a tad jealous you were already spoken for, but it was such fun to show you off."

"Spoken for?"

"Well, yes." She folded her arms on the table. "There are plans for you. Plans for Nick, too."

Those stupid Hexenbiests. That stupid party. And I was in a room full of them. My uncle's warnings about all the tortures Waldgeists had suffered came back to mind. Luckily, I wasn't killed right there. But apparently someone had more power than they had. Their plans must be more important… or more gruesome. Should I be relieved or more worried? I needed answers, for sure.

"Who are you working for?" I gave her a hard stare as I rotated my mug in my hands. "I know these plans aren't something you came up with on your own."

"There are higher powers involved that you wouldn't even begin to understand."

"Higher _Royal_ powers?" I asked with a scowl.

"Well, look at you, hitting the books." Adalind's eyes widened, but then they glinted at me. "It's more than just that."

"Enlighten me," I encouraged. "It would be in your best interest." I pulled out the glass vial once more. My woge was working overtime.

"Doesn't matter, really. He's been keeping a close watch on you and your dear detective for some time now." Adalind tried to look smug again, but the vial in my hand had her a bit antsy.

"How close?"

"Close enough to have met Nick… a few times," she laughed.

Well, that answered the question if there was a Royal in Portland. Was it someone Nick already knew? That still wasn't much to go by since Detective Sexy probably had many connections. The Royal was closer than we thought.

"Okay, let's try this again." My eyes locked with hers. "Who's the Royal you're working for? And I need a name this time."

"I'd rather die than give that name to you."

"And that's what's going to happen if you don't." I shook the vial again. "Well, you won't die in this state. You'll just wish you were."

"He'll get what he wants. He always does. So it doesn't matter what you do to me."

"And what does he want?"

She crossed her arms as she leaned back. "Right now? Just the key."

"What do you know about the key?" I asked.

"Don't you already know what it does?" she asked with a brazen tone. I flinched slightly. "Oh, so you don't," she smirked. "Well, there's more than one… seven actually. That key of Nick's is needed to complete the set, so to speak, but that's all I know."

"What does it open?"

"I don't know that either." I kept watch of her eyes. Was she lying? No, surprisingly, she seemed to be telling me the truth.

"Well, he's not getting it, so that's off the table."

"Then Hank is going to have to die," she replied with feigned remorse.

"What does the key have to do with the long term plans for Nick and me?" I asked.

"That's separate from the key."

"How so?"

"Well, you won't be able to break this Zaubertrank, so I wouldn't worry too much about that. Just go off and have a nice family, like your parents did." She laughed and I narrowed my eyes at her.

How dare she laugh like this was funny! I opened the vial, tilting it like I was going to empty it on the floor. She stopped laughing and had another woge. I put the cork back in. It wasn't so funny now, was it?

"Okay," Adalind said as she retracted, "Most of the Royals are against hybrids, but the one here in Portland feels a few Waldgeist-Grimms in his corner would be an advantage. So he made sure your parents fell in love, much like he's ensuring that you and Nick follow suit."

I let out a gasp. My parents were under a Zaubertrank? Holy crap! This wasn't right at all. And now they were trying to get more hybrid babies from me and Nick? They were using us like lab rats! I shook my head at the realization. I didn't know much about the Royal families, but this rogue Royal was going to be a big, royal pain in our ass.

"So, why did he let allow my parents to be killed if he needed them?" My dad's letter had revealed most of this answer, but maybe she knew something more, like who killed them.

"I don't know all the details, but basically he couldn't protect them like he thought he could. They'd left the area he had jurisdiction over, so they were vulnerable. The other Royal families managed to get inside information as to what he was planning and… they halted his plans," she shrugged.

Halted his plans? That was a mild way to put decapitation and murder.

I let out a sigh. "So the other Royals killed them?"

"Through the Verrat, yes," she replied matter-of-factly. "The Verrat is always happy to dispense of inter-species relationships given the opportunity, especially one like your parents had that posed a threat. But the Reapers got to your mother first. They're happy to chop off the head of a Grimm at _any_ opportunity."

I stifled a shudder. Now she was just trying to get a rise out of me. She wasn't going to get that satisfaction.

"Who killed them? What were their names?"

Adalind shrugged indifferently. "There are many of them out there, Renée. Hard to keep track."

"Do you know who killed them?" I repeated firmly as my eyes narrowed. "Yes or no?"

She pressed her lips together and cleared her throat. "No, I don't know."

"So, what does this Royal think Nick and I are going to do? Just pick up where my parents left off?"

"He has you both rooted here in Portland, so as long as you stay in the area, you're protected." She flashed her artificial smile. "I recommend you buy a nice house in the suburbs and raise your family here. I'd hate to see that pretty head of yours get sliced off your neck." Her sarcasm was oozing as much as her woge Hexenbiest face had been.

Was that why Reapers were after me in Louisville? Perhaps they were already aware that Mr. Royal Pain was up to no good again. Were they planning on finishing me off while I was out of some jurisdiction of Mr. Royal Pain? Maybe I was safer here than I thought.

"So, what's stopping us from just breaking the Zaubertrank?"

"This spell is strong, and you're not going to find much about it."

"Well, I'm already aware of the schwarzherz," I replied, mirroring her smugness.

"That's only part of it. The schwarzherz just creates the initial bond, but once you've cemented that bond, the spell is locked in for good. He's really cute, so you shouldn't be too disappointed about being with him forever."

He was more than cute. Nick Burkhardt was friggin' hot. Detective Sexy was permeating through my brain, but then I focused myself.

"Cemented the bond?" I asked.

"Oh, don't play coy with me. You know what I'm referring to."

I looked down at my hands. She meant sex. I kept my head down a moment longer then stared back at Adalind in defeat. I'd let her think we'd gone all the way. Fortunately, we hadn't. Actually it was because of her that we hadn't last night. In a way she had saved us and the Bitch Witch didn't even know it.

She grinned at me. "So, like I was saying, you two are locked in. I'll look for the wedding invitations in the mail."

Oh, her smugness was too much to handle. My woge was pleading with me to take her down right in the café, but I held back. I couldn't right now. She needed to go back to Mr. Royal Pain and let him know that Nick and I had sealed the deal. He had to think his dubious plan was working.

"What was this Zaubertrank called that you gave us, anyway?"

"Divinement Amoureux."

I translated the French. "Divinely in love."

"Sweet, isn't it?" The Bitch Witch held out her open palm. "Now if you'll hand me that vial I'll be on my way."

"I'm not finished yet," I glared at her. "Why did you try to kill Nick's aunt?"

"She knew more than we wanted Nick to find out about. We couldn't have her giving all our secrets away."

"So, was that the Royal's doing, too?"

"Of course," Adalind simply replied.

"Is he someone Nick works with?" I asked.

"I already told you I'm not divulging that information. Besides, he'd kill me if I did, so either way I'd be dead."

"That might not be a bad thing. You know, I've heard there are a few statues in the museum in New York that are thought to be victims of Versteinerter Holz. You might look fetching behind glass."

The Bitch Witch shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "It would be better than what he would do to me," she gravely replied. Clearly I wasn't going to get a name out of her. "Have I answered all your questions now?"

"No, but we're at an impasse, and I have things I need to do." I handed her the vial of Scope. She opened it eagerly and drank it down, but then her eyes popped open as she spit out the remains in her mug, coughing as she went.

She shook the vial at me. "What's the meaning of this?" A few patrons looked over at our table from her elevated tone.

"Keep your voice down," I hissed.

"Where's the real antidote?" Adalind demanded, her face contorting into another woge.

"There isn't one," I chuckled. The worry mounted on her face. Oh, yeah. Be afraid, be very afraid. I took a moment to savor her fear. "Much like there isn't a Zaubertrank in your tea," I finally added.

The Bitch Witch leapt out at me, seething, but then paused inches from my face and controlled herself.

"That's right. You wouldn't want to harm the baby factory over here." I encircled my stomach for effect. "I'm sure your boss might kill you for that one, too."

"Oh, if it wasn't for him you would be dead right now." The words came out of her mouth with a vile force. "_So_ dead."

"It's not as amusing when the tables are turned, huh?" I rose from my chair and laid down cash for our teas. "Fortunately, I'm not as evil as you are, and I wouldn't dream of poisoning you. If I was going to kill you, I'd do it _without_ magic." I let an evil smirk pass my lips. "But I did enjoy washing that lying mouth of yours out with Scope. The tea is on me. Have a good day." I turned to walk out, humming The Eagles' 'Witchy Woman' as I went.

"I have to get home, too." I glanced back toward Adalind's Wicked Witch of the West grin. "I have dinner plans later with Hank. He's gonna love what I'm cooking tonight. Let your boyfriend know about the key. He might decide Hank is worth saving."

I shook my head at her. "You realize that this isn't going to end well, right?"

"That's what I'm planning on." Another artificial smile curved up on her lips as I turned and walked out the door. I dashed to my car and drove back toward the spice shop. We needed to prepare for war!

* * *

A/N: Whew okay! So a little more info about Renée's family and plans for the love sick Grimms. We're skipping up a bit that they know a Royal lives in Portland. They're still not sure who it is though.

Loved writing this chapter. Was actually one of my earlier chapters I wrote, so I'm happy to finally share it in the story. Tricking Adalind was a fun twist.

My hubby laughed at my line about villains saying "Pity." He said that's not always true. So this weekend we went to see Iron Man 3, and sure enough the bad guy had a line and said "Pity." I tugged at his arm and said, "See, I told you so!" LOL! - Sorry, just had to share.

My hubby also asked once why I write author's notes on every chapter. I dunno. It's my little soapbox, so I hope it doesn't annoy anyone. I figure you guys can always skip them if you want to. lol!


	110. Chapter 110

**Chapter 110**

"_Strange brew, killin' what's inside of you.  
She's a witch of trouble in electric blue.  
Strange brew, killin' what's inside of you.  
She's some kind of demon messin' in the flue.  
If you don't watch out it'll stick to you…" _

I sang the song by Cream as I regrouped my thoughts. Adalind wasn't aware we had figured out what she'd given Hank. She also didn't know that Nick and I hadn't fully bonded, so to say. At least I'd gained some information that was useful, although disturbing to find out. Right now I just wanted to get back to the spice shop and see how the antidote for Hank was coming along. It was going to take a while to make, and it was only a quarter after one by the clock in my car, so there was still much work to do.

My pulse quickened. Nick was probably back already. I tried hard to slow my heart back down. Oh, this was so hard to deal with. These feelings weren't real. That was obvious after the talk with the Bitch Witch, but the feelings were there, lulling me into a sense of love.

I could fight this. It was like an intense dose of Ziegevolk. There, that would help. Nick was just a very potent Blue Beard. Yeah, a Blue Beard. And I'd have to fend off his pheromones. You can do that, right, Renée? I gave myself the pep talk, attempting to block out the images of Nick with his shirt off… and those eyes coupled with that perfect, dark hair. Crap! I needed an antidote quick. Divinely in Love my ass. I was going to need divine intervention to get through this.

I pushed my thoughts toward Monroe. I thought fondly of our night in the woods. Our night of… mating. I shook my head. That wasn't helping either. I thought of everything else about him. Oh, Monroe. He was the one I loved. I kept those thoughts brimming as I continued to drive to the spice shop.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Rosalee was standing over a Bunsen burner as the jingle of the bells alerted them that I'd arrived. I shut the door with one foot, carting coffees and pastries in both hands from the coffee shop across the street. Nick turned quickly and tried to stand as I walked toward the back room, but Monroe grabbed his shoulders, thrusting him firmly back in his seat.

"Hold you horses there, pal," he said gruffly. "You're staying right here."

Monroe looked at me and I gave him a smile. Under my jacket I was wearing a button-down cream blouse with a caramel pencil skirt. Monroe seemed to appreciate my wardrobe change. He crossed the spice shop to the doorway where I was lingering with my arms full.

"So, did your lunch thing go okay?" he asked while helping me with the cups.

"Yes, it was… informative," I kept my face smooth. "How's the antidote for Hank going?"

"It's now an antidote for Hank and Sergeant Wu," replied Nick as he stood behind Monroe. Apparently he wasn't going to listen to Monroe at all.

"The sergeant? What did I miss?"

Monroe passed a cup to both Nick and Rosalee, as Nick told me more about the connection to Sergeant Boils-a-Lot and the Zaubertrank gone wrong. They'd determined that the pica he had was an obsessive side effect from the potion. This Zaubertrank caused the victim to suffer obsessive behaviors so great that the brain would eventually overload resulting in the physical body shutting down. So instead of curing just Detective Swagger, Sergeant Boils-a-Lot needed a cure, too.

I took a sip of much needed caffeine and turned to Rosalee. "What we did a few weeks ago… That didn't cure the sergeant?"

"No, we just treated the symptoms of the boils with the keim extract mixture," Rosalee stated, watching her flask of liquid intently.

"So, the same antidote for Hank will cure the sergeant, too?"

"It should, since he took the same Zaubertrank." She didn't sound as sure of herself as she normally did about these things. Hopefully she knew what she was doing.

"Do you know anything about a Zaubertrank called, 'Divinely in Love'?"

Rosalee looked up from her burner. "Where did you hear about that?" she asked as she turned to pull a large, black book off the shelf.

"I sort of talked to Adalind at lunch," I casually replied as the Fuchsbau, the Blutbad, and the Grimm all directed their eyes at me at once.

"You did what?" Nick and Monroe exclaimed in unison. Nick jumped up, almost spilling his coffee while Monroe almost spat his out.

"Renée, are you okay?" Nick bounded toward me. "Did she try to hurt you?"

I backed away from the 'Blue Beard' and instead moved over toward Monroe, sitting beside him and avoiding Nick completely.

"I-I'm fine," I stammered. "I needed some answers, so we had a chat over tea."

Rubbing my brown tourmaline necklace between my fingers like a worry stone, my heart fluttered in dismay. Nick looked heartbroken from my rejection. This was so difficult. I pushed hard on my practiced calm to curb my thoughts.

"Okay, so I'm confused here. How the hell did _you_ know Adalind?" Monroe asked me as I let go of my necklace.

"She's the lawyer I have lunch with sometimes, and the same one who hosted the party I went to. I didn't know what she was though," I sighed. "Well, until this happened of course."

"So, you're telling me that all this time 'Miss Lawyer' was Adalind?" Monroe just shook his head, but didn't say anything further. I really had to stop using nicknames for people.

"And Adalind just willingly told you the name of the Zaubertrank?" asked Rosalee. She was back to reading through pages in the book she had open.

I nodded in her direction. "She seemed satisfied that we can't break the spell."

Rosalee went back to the book. "It has the right two ingredients," she noted as she double-checked the page with the sales log. "But like I said before, there are going to be others with the same ingredients that have a similar effect down to the marks on the tongue. If she's lying, then the wrong antidote could be fatal."

"I still have the apple tarts in my freezer. I can bring them by once Hank and the sergeant are okay, and we'll be sure."

Adalind wouldn't have a reason to lie to me, but I agreed with Rosalee. If she told me the wrong information, we could die. But if anything happened to us, however, then Mr. Royal Pain might kill her in retaliation. Although, it would be unlikely that our mistake would ever be traced back to Adalind. So yeah, to be sure I needed Rosalee to test the tarts.

"Apple tarts?" Monroe asked while scratching his beard.

"Yeah. I'm thinking these tarts she made for me at the party were laced with the Zaubertrank. No one else had any, and she was practically forcing them on me that night. She even sent them home with me."

"So, then what infected Nick?" asked Monroe.

Rosalee looked across the room over at Nick. "Do you know what you might have eaten?"

"Well, I assure you I've had nothing that she personally gave me," he replied quickly. His eyes widened as he seemed lost in thought. "The apple pie!" Nick exclaimed. "Renée, remember the pie?"

I recalled the night at Nick's trailer. Half the pie had fallen to the floor before we... "I remember," I replied softly. Oh, yeah. I remembered that night quite well.

"Someone had left it for me at the precinct during a potluck we had. It had to be the pie!" A perfect deduction. God, he was clever. "Thankfully I didn't eat all of mine either." He turned to me with eyes wide. "I was going to bring the rest home to Juliette!" He grabbed at his dark bangs.

"Oh, God. Nick…"

"If she had eaten it…" Nick shook his head.

"It may have been Adalind's plan for you guys to share it with Juliette and Monroe… to get rid of them," Rosalee replied.

"I wasn't even aware you had any tarts," said Monroe.

"It's a good thing you eat organic. I didn't offer them to you because I figured it was made with processed ingredients." Adalind had said Monroe might like them, and although he hadn't eaten any, Chloe almost had two. That damn witch.

"Well, thanks for not sharing, Renée," he breathed out. "But it looks like _you two_ took a bite out of the wrong apples, dude." He sighed as he put his arm around me. "What is it with witches and apples anyway? I mean, it's such a hackneyed combo. Man, you'd think they would've evolved enough to, like, incorporate other fruits by now."

"At least her apples didn't put us into a deep sleep," I let out a short, yet awkward, chuckle as I stood and crossed the room, taking the book from Rosalee and sitting back down next to Monroe.

"Well, you know, I would've preferred you'd been asleep instead of doing the tonsil tango with Nick, if you ask me," Monroe mumbled.

"Right, because being knocked out would've been so much better."

My eyes glanced over the details of the 'Divinely in Love' Zaubertrank. A few ingredients listed were plain and simple. Others I had no clue about, which was probably for the best, since the ones we'd been searching for all night were less than desirable, to put it mildly. The last ingredient stopped me in my tracks.

"Blood from each of those to be bonded?" I asked aloud.

Oh my! Much like the Zaubertrank that Detective Swagger was poisoned with, this one required blood as well. I blanched at the thought. But how? How did someone get my blood and Nick's? It didn't make sense. Perhaps Adalind really had lied about which Zaubertrank she'd used. That Bitch Witch was devious.

"All spells of love this potent require blood," explained Rosalee.

"Well, _that_ ingredient is organic," Monroe added with a grimace.

"I didn't bleed at any time I had lunch with her," I replied, but it was mostly for my own benefit. I looked over at Nick. "Have you bled recently where someone could've taken it?"

"We had our annual physical a few weeks ago. They took blood at the hospital."

"Hospital," I repeated. "Which hospital?"

"The Good Samaritan, why?"

My eyes widened. It was the same hospital I'd gone to after the attack from Miss Fireball the Daemonfeuer. I thought about Nurse Wretched. It was all making sense now.

"Nick, do you recall if your nurse had jet black hair?" I asked.

"Maybe so? But her hair was nothing like yours, which is so beautiful and…"

"Dude, just answer the question." Monroe cut him off.

"Uhh... It could've been. What are you getting at, Renée?"

I explained the trip to the emergency room the night of the Daemonfeuer and the nurse who did blood work. "That same nurse was at Adalind's party." I shook my head. "I'd be willing to bet she's the one who did your physical, too, Nick."

"Hank and I both had physicals that day," Nick replied as his gorgeous eyes widened. "So that explains how Adalind got Hank's blood, too."

How had Adalind planned on getting my blood if I hadn't gone to the ER that night? I didn't want to know.

"What else did Adalind tell you?" Nick asked.

"Well, it was a lot of things," I answered while the adrenaline rushed through my body.

The amount of info I had to process was too much. I told them about the rogue Royal that was in Portland and the Zaubertrank that was used on my parents. I delicately mentioned it was the same plan that was intended for me and Nick. Monroe growled at that information. The hardest part was telling Nick that Aunt Marie probably knew about a lot of this and that's why Mr. Royal Pain had plotted to kill her.

"Adalind doesn't know we're working on an antidote for Hank." I looked at Nick. "She also thinks that you and I… completed our Zaubertrank." I ran my fingers though my hair as I added, "Well, after I convinced her that we had… umm… bonded."

Rosalee glanced up at me with large, brown eyes. "So, you two haven't…"

"No," I squeaked out. My face flushed having said that. "But Adalind needs to let this Royal think his plans are coming together."

"Talk about some great hexpectations," said Monroe. "Creating Wesen hybrids with Grimms? What the hell is this dude thinking?"

I shook my head. "Fortunately we caught it before it was too late."

"Your situation would've been far more complicated if you had," Rosalee added, startling me out of my thoughts. "According to the book, there's no cure at that point."

"So, if we had, umm... If we hadn't come over here to the spice shop last night…?" Nick stammered out as he eyed Monroe, who was furrowing his brow at what we were discussing.

I nodded. "Yeah, pretty much we would be..." My words trailed off and my cheeks continued to burn. Maybe I did have the luck of the Waldgeist on my side.

"So, why Hank?" Nick asked. "What does he have to do with us being together?"

"Adalind said they want your key, Nick."

"The key?" His gorgeous eyes widened, shaking his head adamantly. "They aren't getting it."

"That's what I told her, too."

"Do they know what's on it? What we found?"

"I-I don't know."

Rosalee and Monroe exchanged baffled looks. "So you wanna tell us what this key is?" asked Monroe. "Or should we just guess."

"It's just something my aunt left me," Nick replied as vaguely as possible.

"Don't you think we've had enough secrets already?" Monroe argued with a huff.

"What it is doesn't matter, 'cause she's not getting it."

"These secrets my dad and your aunt kept… There's a bigger picture here that's more complex than we even realize," I said. "These Royal families are like players on one big chessboard and we're just pawns in their game."

"Bigger picture," Nick repeated. "That's the second time I've heard that today." He shook his head.

"Adalind said Hank will die if they don't get what they want. They must know you wouldn't let anything happen to your partner, so that has to be why they chose Hank."

"Maybe we oughta find Hank and bring him here before Adalind tries to do anything to him, or, uh, with him," Monroe suggested. "You know, before he gets the worst STD of his life?"

Nick shook his head. "And tell him what? 'Gee, Hank, your girlfriend is actually a witch. Oh, and you don't really love her. She gave you a love potion and now you need to sit here while a Fuchsbau makes an antidote.'?"

"Well, no, not like that, exactly," Monroe huffed back. "But, it's not so safe for him to be near her right now, man. I mean, especially if they're using him as a bargaining chip, you know?"

"They won't kill Hank if they think they can get what they want," I said. "That's the whole reason they're doing this. She's probably just awaiting orders from the Royal. Except… Crap!"

"What?" Nick asked quickly.

"She said she was making dinner for Hank tonight."

"Yeah. I'm aware of her dinner plans." Nick sighed heavily as he finally stopped pacing a hole in the floor and sat down near Rosalee, who was still concentrating on the flask under the burner. "She called Hank this morning while we were at the precinct to invite him over. I talked to her briefly, and she implied that there was a surprise with what she has planned for tonight."

"Man, that doesn't sound like a recipe I'd want to sample," Monroe added with a shake of his head.

"Crap, well that's what she's cooking up this evening. I wish I'd known she said that. I would've asked more questions," I muttered. Monroe's surprises were great, well usually. But Hexenbiest surprises? Well, those were not what anyone wanted to get.

"I think you did enough for one day." Monroe rubbed my back. He was withholding more lectures. I'd get those later, no doubt.

Nick turned to Rosalee. "How's the antidote coming along?"

"I'm about a third of the way done." She stirred more liquid into the beaker. "But if that Hexenbiest is planning on dinner with Hank, we need to get this to him before she does."

Nick cupped his chin. "There has to be more to this than just a key."

"I asked and she said the Royal just wants that key."

"And Adalind said this Royal lives here? Did she say that I knew him?"

"I asked that, too. She implied you'd met him, but I couldn't get her to budge on anything about him. She told me she'd rather die than tell me his identity."

"Well, that can be arranged," Nick said, wringing his hands as he stood and resumed pacing the floor.

"I tried that, too, but she was fine with dying and taking her secret to the grave."

Nick stopped briefly to look at me, crossing his arms. "What do you mean you tried that?"

"Oh…" I glanced down pressing my lips together. "Probably shouldn't have mentioned that part."

Monroe lifted my chin. "Aw man. What did you do, Renée?"

"Well, I kind of told her I'd poisoned her tea with a Zaubertrank." I decompressed my lips at the confession, but then added. "I thought turn about was fair play."

Monroe laughed all of a sudden, surprising me. "Only my girlfriend would trick a Hexenbiest into thinking she'd taken a Zaubertrank as a comeuppance."

"Irony is never lost on me." I turned to face him, but his laughter was masking his disapproval. He'd called me his girlfriend. I was happy about that, but Nick didn't seem too happy, though.

"So, does she think she's still poisoned?" Nick asked. He looked like he was trying to ignore what Monroe had said.

I explained the ruse of the antidote. I was getting good at faking liquids. I'd used the vial from Jack's Zaubertrank to disguise the Scope. Were they impressed by what I'd done or did they think I was crazy to be that reckless? Their wide eyes were hard to read.

"Renée, didn't we talk about this?" Monroe's brows furrowed and a flash of red passed his eyes. "You can't do these kinds of things!" Okay, so it was the latter of the two.

"She couldn't touch me. I was safe."

"But you didn't know that going into the situation," Nick chipped in. "Renée, I love you and you've got to be cautious!" Monroe shot a malicious look Nick's way, and he noticed it immediately. "I'm sorry, Monroe, but right now I do love her, and I don't want anything happening to her."

I tried hard not to reply to Nick. God, I loved him still. This was so difficult. Blue Beard, Blue Beard, Blue Beard. Maybe if I said it enough times in my head it would stick. Monroe held a low growl in his throat and was poised like he was going to jump up, so I held his hand tightly.

"You don't have to say it out loud," Monroe's voice boomed as both men glared at each other from across the room.

"Well, I can't stop these feelings. I'm sure you feel the same way, right?"

My heart caught in my throat. Was Nick going to make Monroe say it? Here? Now?

"Of course I don't want anything happening to her," Monroe declared indignantly, releasing my hand to cross his arms. "Why would you even ask something like that?"

He had avoided the question. Even Rosalee gave him a puzzled look. My heart remained caught in my throat so tight I could barely breathe. Did it mean he didn't love me anymore because of this, or did he just not want to say the words? Oh, God… What if he never loved me at all?

Nick scoffed as he smirked. "Well, at least _I_ have no trouble saying…"

"Maybe you should at least call Hank," I interjected quickly. Nick didn't need to say it again. Monroe could only hold back so much. "Maybe you can talk him out of dinner."

Nick shook his head. "He's obsessed with her. He's not going to listen to anything I say right now."

"I know the feeling," muttered Monroe. "It's like talking to brick wall… Well, if a brick wall just happened to be, umm, cursed with a love potion."

* * *

A/N: So we're getting a heads up on the key for Hank bit. SO know we know (But I think most of you figured it out.) that the tarts had the potion for Renée and that mystery apple pie left for Nick had his potion. The nurse from the hospital is the culprit for getting everyone's blood for the Zaubertranks, too. (In my story at least.) A little more angst between Monroe and Nick. Monroe dodged that "L" word pretty quick... Aww...

2 more chapters to go today. Comments/thoughts? Hope you're still reading and enjoying!


	111. Chapter 111

**Chapter 111**

We were getting restless. Hours and hours passed as we worked on mixing and pouring. Now it was simmering. It had been simmering for the past few hours. During that time I'd read more about spells and potions than I'd ever wanted to. We'd found four other candidates for our Zaubertrank, so far. I reached for another book. At least it kept my mind busy, so I wouldn't think of other things… other people… Nick. Dammit. I was doing it again. I sighed heavily as I turned the page and hummed Carrie Underwood's warnings about Nick.

"_You better take it from me.  
That boy is like a disease.  
You run and you try and you're tryin' to hide,  
And you're wondering why you can't get free._

_He's like a curse, he's like a drug.  
You'll get addicted to his love.  
You wanna get out, but he's holdin' you down,  
'Cause you can't live without one more touch._

_He's the devil in disguise, a snake with blue eyes,  
And he only comes out at night.  
Gives you feelings that you don't want to fight.  
You better run for your life…"_

"I think the antidote is about ready." Rosalee said after her long silence, halting my humming. I'd almost forgotten she was still in the room.

We crowded around Rosalee's table as she prepared for the last ingredient. With a shaky hand she attempted to add a few drops of a clear liquid to the flask, but they made it onto the table instead. The caustic liquid sizzled as the finish on the wood dissolved underneath it.

"Hey, look at that. Multiple uses," Monroe commented and Rosalee gave him a disparaging glare. She steadied her hand on the final drops, and the liquid in the flask changed from opaque to lavender. There were quite a few lavender potions out there. Perhaps that made it a lucky charm.

"How do we get it in him?" asked Nick. He tried to grab my hand, but I moved it quickly. Monroe seemed pleased.

Rosalee picked up an instrument that looked more like a torture device than anything. "With a nez-soufflet."

I translated the French. "Nose bellows?"

Rosalee nodded as she demonstrated. "You put these prongs into the victim's nostrils and push down on the plunger."

"You know, I don't know Hank all that well," Monroe said as he turned toward Nick, "but how the hell are you going to convince him this is something that's good for him?"

"Let's just see if it works first," Nick replied with a shake of his head.

"The only way we'll know if it works is if we try it," replied Rosalee as she bottled the liquid from the flask. "We should administer it on the sergeant first since his symptoms are milder. If it works for him, then it should work for your partner."

"Do we have time?" asked Nick. "Hank could be with Adalind by now."

"Rosalee sighed. "I'd rather test it on the sergeant before trying it on Hank. With his symptoms it could do more harm than good if it doesn't work."

"Hopefully we can convince the sergeant to take the antidote," I said with a small sigh. "We just won't mention he's going to be a guinea pig."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Monroe and I rode together in my car and Nick and Rosalee took Nick's Toyota. Monroe thought it best if Nick and I remained as far apart as possible. I couldn't blame him. Hopefully the antidote for Nick's co-workers was fast and simple, so we could get to work on our own.

Monroe drove while I thumbed through the book of spells that held the one Adalind had said she'd used on Nick and me. I was still looking for others that had the same ingredients just in case she was lying. My floorboard held a mini library with three other books, including the one with Hank's Zaubertrank. I'd grabbed that one just in case.

"I know you're trying to fight the Zaubertrank," Monroe said as he followed behind Nick.

"I'm trying really hard, but…" It was best not to finish that sentence. I let out a short breath as Monroe reached for my hand.

"We'll have you guys cured up soon enough," Monroe assured me.

Part of me didn't want to be cured. I looked up from my book and then longingly at the Toyota in front of us. I wanted to be sitting beside Nick. My eyes closed briefly as I pushed hard against my thoughts. It wasn't real. No matter how many times I chanted it, my brain was happy to disagree. Boy, it sure was close to real, though. Alice Cooper's 'Poison' came to me and I hummed it softly while forcing the thoughts of Nick away.

"_I wanna love you, but I better not touch.  
I wanna hold you, but my senses tell me to stop.  
I wanna kiss you, but I want it too much.  
I wanna taste you, but your lips are venomous poison.  
You're poison runnin' through my veins…"_

The Zaubertrank was just poison, it was… It was powerful and it was driving me crazy. I opened my eyes and glanced over at Monroe. No, this was what was real. This was love, pure and simple. I held on to that thought as we continued down the road.

We arrived at a brick building and followed Nick to the sergeant's apartment. For a moment we stood in front of a white door on the left of a long hallway.

"Umm, isn't it a bit extemporaneous, you know, to just show up like this?" Monroe asked Nick. "I mean, how are we gonna approach the subject of curing him? 'Cause I don't think it's going to go over so well, you know, if we ask him if we can come in and stick that thing up his nose. It's kind of a strange request, man."

Nick scoffed. "I'll figure out something to say."

"I mean, I'm sure having four people at his door is going to look strange enough as it is, you know?"

Nick shook his head and knocked loudly on the door, rattling the gold apartment number sixteen that was nailed to its center.

"Hey, Wu, it's Nick," he called out.

A muffled response came from inside. "Nick? Is that you?"

"Yeah, open up the door, man."

"Uh, I can't right now," the voice mumbled out a reply. "I'm in the middle of dinner."

Nick and I both looked at each other.

"What are you eating?" Nick asked with concern.

With the things Nick had mentioned this guy munching on lately, God only knows what dinner was.

"Fiber," came out his reply followed by manic laughter.

"Oh, that can't be good," I said. "We need to get in there."

The laughter changed into heavy coughing. Nick looked panicked and he slammed his body into the door like a battering ram, breaking it open.

The four of us rushed in, witnessing the sergeant on all fours in the middle of his living room, coughing profusely as bits of his white shag carpeting fell from his mouth.

"Oh, my God," Rosalee cried as we rushed toward him. "Get him on the couch! I hope we're not too late!"

Sergeant Coughs-a-Lot was now gasping for breath. We grabbed him and hoisted him quickly across the room to his blue couch while Rosalee filled the torture device with the antidote. As we remained in position, Rosalee swiftly came forward with her tool in hand.

"Okay, hold him down," she instructed as the sergeant pulled against us like he had before at the spice shop.

"Oh, God. Here we go again," Monroe muttered as it took all three of us to keep him still.

"Pull his head back," said Rosalee as she positioned the device inside the sergeant's nose, pushing the plunger in while it hissed out the antidote.

Immediately the sergeant bowed up in response like a fishing rod. He raised half a foot off the couch then fell back down. He bowed up again, but this time his skin turned as bright a crimson as the devil himself. He remained bowed up this time.

Monroe turned to Rosalee. "Is that supposed to happen?"

"I hope so." Rosalee softly breathed the words as her brow furrowed. She didn't sound too convinced.

Nick grabbed my hand and this time I let him. The sergeant's eyes rolled back in his head adding to the demonic effect.

My mouth gaped slightly at the sergeant's reaction to the antidote. "How long is he going to be this way?"

"I-I don't know." Rosalee's tone didn't change and her mouth mirrored mine.

"Well, how do we know if he's cured?" Nick questioned right as the sergeant finally collapsed down again and the red faded.

I let go of Nick's hand and stood up from my crouched position. The sergeant inhaled deeply and then seemed to come back out of it. He spat out the remains of the carpet and opened his eyes, looking utterly confused at four people standing over him around his couch.

"Where'd you guys come from?" The sergeant's voice was horse and dry as he moved his eyes around to each of us. "Is this a dream?" He looked down, wide-eyed. "Why am I in my underwear?" he asked bewildered as he covered himself with his hands, like that was going to help. We looked away. "Uh, this is a little embarrassing. Excuse me!" He shot up from the couch and quickly ran off to a back room before any of us could reply.

"I think…" Monroe paused as he gestured a hand toward where the sergeant ran off to, "it worked."

"Yeah, and fast," Rosalee agreed.

I breathed out a sigh. "One down, one to go."

Nick nodded. "Right. Time to get it to Hank." He pulled out his cell phone. We listened as he talked to his partner. Hank was already at Adalind's for dinner, Nick told us after he hung up.

"Let's go before Hank's goose is cooked!" I said as we left the sergeant's apartment without another word.

* * *

A/N: This chapter is pretty much straight Grimm story from "Love Sick."

One more chapter today. (:


	112. Chapter 112

**Chapter 112**

"I really wish Nick had a Plan B," Monroe said as we followed Nick to Adalind's place. "Well, even a Plan A would be nice." I was driving this time and Monroe was looking over the spell books.

"When the rush hits, you just follow it."

"Yeah, but you don't just run in on a Hexenbiest all willy-nilly." Monroe shook his head. "And that you even tried to trick one… I'm still not sure what to make of that."

"Hey, the tricking part _was_ my Plan B," I reasoned. Actually I was quite proud of my idea. I took the time to formulate a plan while I was flooded with recklessness. My gut had told me to just go and confront her, so maybe I could control it. Well, some of it. Perhaps the concentration potion had helped, too.

"Renée," he sighed out my name. "She could've killed you, or cursed you, or threw some other malediction your way. She still could…" Those last words fell out flat off his tongue. He was right, he usually was. This might not be over.

"Let's hope Nick can take care of her, so that doesn't happen."

As we continued to drive, I tried to ignore the Toyota in front of me and the silhouette of Nick in the driver's seat. I wanted him close, holding me. I quickly tried to block it out before Monroe knew what I was thinking. These feelings had to stop. I hummed Erik Hassle's 'Bitter End.'

"_Whatever it takes to break this spell.__  
__I've got to get out__  
__Of this hell.__  
__I can't get over you.__  
__Could you please give me forgiveness,__  
__And wash my sin away…"_

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

I parked behind Nick and the four of us were quickly out of our cars. I grabbed the book with Hank's Zaubertrank before I closed my door, holding it close to my chest. Nick led the way in a brisk pace to Adalind's condo with Monroe right on his heels.

"What if they're, like, in the middle of... you know? I mean, this could get kinda awkward. And Hank is one thing, but the Hexenbiest… You don't want to get them riled up, man. It could get ugly, fast." Monroe's words were falling on deaf ears as Nick moved forward. Rosalee and I stayed behind them.

"I'm bringing her down," was Nick's only reply.

"Look, I'm not saying I'm against it, but, you know, that's gonna be a pretty hard thing for a cop to explain. You know, dead body and all."

Monroe was trying to evoke a little sense into Nick, but Nick was having a reckless woge of his own right now. It was coursing through his veins and that was all he needed. I knew the feeling well.

"And what about your partner, dude?" Monroe continued. "What's he gonna think when you gun down the woman he's in love with?"

"Do you have any better ideas?" Nick paused for a brief moment to look at Monroe as we went up the stairs. "I'm listening."

"Well, if you'd let me think for a second," Monroe replied while gesturing with his hands in frustration. He looked almost surprised that Detective Sexy was asking. "No, I don't," he surmised.

The door to Adalind's condo was standing partially open and we took it as an invitation to go inside.

"Hank?" Nick called out as we stepped into the Bitch Witch's living room. "Hank, it's Nick!" he called again and we followed him into one of the rooms in the back.

The door was closed, and Nick drew out his gun as he opened it quickly. We were in a stylish model bedroom, decorated similar to the rest of Adalind's place. Adalind was nowhere to be found. Detective Swagger was lying shirtless in bed, eyes closed with the covers all tucked around him. Was he asleep or something worse? Above his head were butterflies in frames like the ones in her non-lived-in living room. More dead butterflies. She was beyond evil.

Rosalee rushed to Hank's side.

"Is he okay?" I asked as I crossed the room and leaned over Rosalee.

"Are we too late?" Nick asked from behind us.

Rosalee turned to us after checking for a pulse. "He's still alive."

Nick went to the other side of the bed. "But why is he unconscious?"

Rosalee slowly lifted Hank's eyelid, revealing a deep red iris. It reminded me of Monroe's eyes when he was emotional.

"Oh, my God!" She jerked back with a gasp. "She altered the Zaubertrank." Rosalee grabbed the book from my hands. "Hank is still alive, but the antidote… It's useless now." Rosalee sounded panicked as she hurriedly turned the pages of the book.

"But it worked on Wu," Monroe argued.

Rosalee jerked her head up. "He didn't have sex with her."

"Oh, God." Monroe looked at me and then to Nick. "That always complicates things, doesn't it?" Thank goodness Nick and I hadn't gone all the way. I was kind of partial to my green eyes.

Nick shook Hank vigorously. "Hey, come on, Hank! Wake up, man!" he yelled out, trying to get a response from Detective Swagger.

"Nick, it's not gonna work." Rosalee stopped him. "He can't... It's like he's in a coma, but it's not physical, it's mental. It's… It's like his brain is locked," she explained while shaking her head.

Nick pointed to Hank. "Well, there's gotta be a way to fix this."

"Possibly, if she used her own blood."

"What difference does that make?" Nick asked.

"The only way you can break a blood Zaubertrank is by killing the Hexenbiest whose blood is in it." Rosalee looked gravely at Nick as she spoke.

"Kill her?" I repeated. I turned to Monroe, who was stroking his bearded chin. The red glint in his eyes seemed agreeable to that idea.

Nick's cell phone interrupted all our thoughts.

"Well, I won't have a problem with that," Nick replied as he stood, pulling out his phone. "Burkhardt," he answered. His eyes widened as he listened. "Adalind." Nick put the phone on speaker.

"I just wanted to invite you over to my place for a little dessert." Adalind's fiendish voice came through his phone and filled the room.

"I'm already there."

"Then you found Hank. Good. Still sleeping peacefully, I hope?"

"Where are you?"

"This is the way it's gonna go, Nick. Hank will be dead by morning, unless I get the key your Aunt gave you. I'm sure your girlfriend has already told you all about that, though," she laughed and I had to hold my tongue not to say anything. "So you'd better bring that key to the Bremen Ruins as soon as you can. I've got a very busy schedule, and I can't wait all night. It's really very easy, Nick. The key or Hank."

Nick hung up the phone without responding to the Bitch Witch.

"What's the Bremen Ruins?" I asked.

"It's a place in Forest Park," Nick replied with recklessness boiling from him. "And that's where I'm going to kill her."

"Nick, you can't kill her," Rosalee urged.

"Oh, yeah, I can," he retorted, walking toward the bedroom door.

"No, it's not like that. If you shoot her, she'll be dead, but that won't bring your partner back." Rosalee was following Nick back to the living room as she spoke. Monroe and I were right behind her. "The only way you can break the hold she has on Hank is with the blood of a Grimm."

This stopped Nick and he turned quickly.

"With your blood," Rosalee continued. "She has to ingest it. This will destroy the Hexenbiest."

"So, she has to drink my blood?" Nick looked half disgusted, half confused.

"It won't take much; just half a milliliter in her system should be enough." Rosalee was reading from the book in her hands as she spoke.

"Milliliters?" Nick ran his hand through his hair. "What… How am I supposed to measure it out?"

Rosalee shook her head. "It isn't very much."

"Does that work on all Wesen?" Nick asked.

"No," Monroe said. "I mean, it's… Uhh…" He looked at me, which only made it worse.

"Hexenbiests are well aware what the blood of a Grimm will do to them," Rosalee told Nick. "I'm not sure the best way for you to get your blood into her."

"I'll figure it out when I get there." Nick turned back to leave. "If I have to force it down her throat, I will."

"Please be careful!" I begged. While Adalind was under orders not to harm us, she may act on instinct if Nick was going to try to kill her.

"I'll be all right, I promise." Nick stepped forward to reach for me, but Monroe moved in between us. "I'll return soon." He cast off the quick reply before leaving.

I wanted desperately to go with him or at least hold him in my arms before he went off to fight. Monroe pulled me toward him, and I held him instead.

"Nick will be fine," he said with a tone that didn't sound like he believed it. He patted my back and let me go quickly. "Let's go back to Hank."

We went back to the bedroom, but I was beside myself with worry. My own woge of recklessness was bitching at me to leave. I wanted to fight by Nick's side. If he couldn't get the blood inside her, I could. I had Grimm blood in my veins as well.

"I need to find a restroom," I said. "I'll be back." They nodded and I closed the bedroom door behind me. Walking quickly, I passed up the bathroom and slipped out the front door.

* * *

A/N: Again staying with the Grimm story, except we get a bit more about Grimm blood and what Nick needs to do to kill Adalind.

Oh no... Renée is sneaking out. Wonder where she's going, huh?

We'll stop there. There's only 8 chapters to go. Wow! So tomorrow I'll post 5 more and Tuesday I'll post the last three *hopefully* a few hours before Grimm airs that night.

Comments appreciated. Thanks as always for reading, and STAY TUNED! (:


	113. Chapter 113

**Chapter 113**

I was in my car and on the road before I even stopped to think. As if my MP3 player knew my plan, Lenny Kravitz played through my stereo as I broke the speed limit.

"_No one can live for me.  
No one can see the things I see.  
I walk this road.  
No one can tell me how to be.  
It's my destiny…" _

It was my destiny to fight the good fight. I'd lost my real family and my heritage, but now I needed to start reclaiming my birthright. My recklessness was pushing me onward as I followed my GPS to Forest Park. I briefly pulled out my cell and called Rosalee.

"I'm heading to the ruins to help Nick," I said when she answered. "Please, keep Monroe calm for me. Make sure he stays there with you."

"Uhh… okay," she sighed, but she sounded conflicted.

"Thank you, Rosalee," I said as I turned on Northwest Thurman Street. "Thank you for everything."

Before I could drop the phone on the seat beside me, it rang in my hand. Monroe. He hadn't wasted any time. I pushed the silent button. If I answered, then it would just be slew of growling mixed with lectures. Thank goodness he didn't have a car or he would've skipped the phone call and just came after me. Honestly I wouldn't put it past him if he hot-footed it. I shook my head. Hopefully Rosalee could keep him there with her long enough for Nick and me to kill the Bitch Witch.

It was a ten minute drive to Forest Park. I made it there in six. Hastily, I parked my car and dashed through the wooded area, following the signs to the ruins. Damn this tight skirt. I wasn't dressed for running, yet again. And these heels! I should've worn jeans and sneakers. But then again, I hadn't planned on running in the woods tonight, either.

Loud voices and commotion caught my ears up ahead. I ducked down as I spotted Nick and Adalind.

"I think it's time we settle our differences... violently." Nick's voice was as cold as the temperature outside.

Adalind had a woge and growled as she leapt out at Nick. They began attacking one another. I couldn't handle it! My recklessness told to me to intervene. The Bitch Witch dealt a forceful punch into Nick's chest, and he fell backward against a pile of stones. Just as she was about to advance on him, I hurled toward her, knocking her down hard as we tumbled to the ground, fighting for control. She hit her head on a protruding rock, giving me the advantage. My skirt ripped up the sides as I sat on top of her while pinning her shoulders with my knees and holding her arms tightly. Adalind looked up at me, surprised and disoriented.

"I can take it from here," Nick's voice said behind me.

"Oh, please, let me," I sneered. The woge was talking through me again.

"No!" Adalind cried out.

I'd never seen such terror in anyone's face as was Adalind's, which was hard to say since her current woge was pretty terrifying to begin with. I smiled down at her as the recklessness was begging me to continue. She forced her arms free from my grip and pushed hard against me, throwing me off balance. I tried to stay in control, but Adalind wrestled enough to break free, and I was thrown against the dirt.

Nick was prepared as she tried to stagger upright and took her down effortlessly. He fastened Adalind back on the ground with his legs as she tried once again to regain herself. I dusted myself off as I got up. My chest ached where she'd pushed me. Adalind struggled against Nick, but he was much stronger and she retracted. The fright on her face was priceless. She whimpered lightly as she looked at us both.

"I told you it wasn't going to end well," I practically spat out over Adalind as she watched Nick's every move. Suddenly Nick kissed her hard on the lips. My heart jumped out. What was he doing? Adalind tried to dodge his kiss, but he was relentless. She bit her teeth into Nick's lip.

"Aah!" Nick cried out, but her bite muffled his groans.

He pulled back as his lip stretched, but Adalind held on with her teeth clenched firmly. I understood now. Nick was clever. Oh, so clever! He was bleeding, and Adalind was taking the blood without even realizing it. Nick let off her quickly. I ran over to him while holding him tightly. Adalind's eyes widened. She held a shaking hand to her mouth, touching the blood that had smeared. Her face paled. Oh, she knew.

"What have you done?" the Bitch Witch gasped, but then she unexpectedly looked like she was seething in pain.

A cloudy mist came from within her in the form of the Hexenbiest. It was like a ghost. I gripped Nick tighter as the ghostly figure screamed and writhed from above Adalind's body. I'd never seen anything like this! It drifted upward into the sky above us and evaporated. All that remained was Adalind's lifeless body lying on the ground.

"Did we just watch her spirit come out of her?" I questioned.

"I have no idea." Nick swallowed hard, still looking up.

We drew our attention back to Adalind. "Is she really… dead?" I asked aloud.

"Maybe so." Nick moved toward her, leaning in.

I stayed right behind him. "Well, ding dong." I murmured. If she was dead then I might start singing.

before I could break out the tune, Adalind sucked in a hard breath as we both jolted back in surprise. She opened her eyes and gasped more loudly.

"Oh, no," she mumbled as she managed to stand, looking at us with a dreadful expression on her face. "You killed me."

"You don't look so dead," Nick replied and I nodded agreeably.

"I'm nothing now." Her expression was like a scared child. "I don't have any powers. You've taken everything." She stared at us, her voice quavering. "I'm just like everybody else." She began to cry. "I'm nothing."

"You're gonna be less than that in a minute," my woge retorted as I marched forward. The Bitch Witch was about to wish she'd stayed dead after I was done with her.

Adalind's eyes grew wide at my words, but then all at once Nick caught my arm, jerking me back.

"I think we've done enough to her tonight," he said while holding me firmly.

A small sigh of relief escaped her as I glowered in her direction. "Go," I ordered, pointing off into the woods. "If I ever see your face again, mark my words, I'll be the last person you ever see."

Her face paled and she silently nodded, wasting no time. We stood motionless as she took off. Nick spun me toward him, his body tense as he stared at my face. He was giving me the WTF look. I blinked quickly a few times. My eyes must've been glowing fiercely.

"Why did you let her go?" I questioned him. "We had her… and…" I held my head. My woge was drifting away, leaving me light-headed.

"Are you okay?" he asked, ignoring my question as he looked me up and down. "Why did you follow me out here?"

"I'm fine." I dropped my hand as I pushed on my practiced calm to settle myself. "I couldn't let you do this on your own. I figured between the both us we could get our blood inside her."

Nick shook his head. "You shouldn't have risked yourself like that."

"I would've risked everything to keep you safe." I wrapped my arms around him. "But, what you did was brilliant. You are so incredible!" As I kissed him, the metallic taste of blood hit my tongue and I managed to pull away, wiping at my mouth.

"Renée, we can't… this isn't real," said Nick gravely as he continued to hold me. He touched his finger to his lips then looked at me with sad eyes.

"I know," I replied. "But it just feels… so right."

"I know it does," he breathed out, pulling me in close to him, and wrapping his arms around me in a tight embrace.

As Nick continued to hold me in the silence of the ruins, I hummed Maroon 5's 'Daylight.'

_Here I am waiting, I'll have to leave soon.  
Why am I holdin' on?  
We knew this day would come, we knew it all along._

_And when the daylight comes, I'll have to go,  
But, tonight I'm 'gonna hold you so close.  
'Cause in the daylight, we'll be on our own,  
But tonight I need to hold you so close…" _

I didn't want to let him go, but all this… it wasn't real. After tonight we'd be back to how it was before… Back to our natures, back to…

"I don't want us going back to hating each other," I said in his ear.

"Maybe we won't," Nick replied gently. "Maybe we'll remember how good we worked together after it's over."

I rested my head on his shoulder. "What if we're back to just snapping at each other because of the Grimm-Waldgeist thing? Or worse, we hate each other even more because of this?" I looked up at him. "I don't want go back to that."

"Then we promise each other now, no matter what happens, we remember the positive things."

I nodded slowly as I leaned in to kiss him again, but then stepped back. Oh, God, how difficult it was to stop. I bit my lip in frustration, losing myself in those blue-green eyes of his. My hand brushed against his cheek, his five o'clock shadow rough against my fingers.

"Dammit, this isn't easy," he replied as he let me go completely. "But we've got to focus."

I closed my eyes. No, Nick was right. I had to be stronger than this. Monroe's brown eyes were what I really wanted to gaze into, not Nick's.

He cleared his throat. "Let's head back."

I nodded as my eyes reopened. "Did Adalind say anything more about the key?" I asked him as we walked forward.

"No," he replied. "She just asked if I had it."

"There's more than one key," I told him. "I asked her if she knew what it did, but she didn't know. What she did tell me, however, was there's a total of seven."

"Seven?" Nick turned toward me. "Seven keys? And they're all like that one?"

I nodded. "So the others must have the rest of the map, maybe?"

"Must be." Nick shook his head. "Whatever this map leads to, if they want it, then it must go to something pretty big."

"If they're willing to kill a man for your key, I'm guessing so." I shook my head. "We should've made her tell us who she was working for."

"I can question people at the station, but I can't just beat up a woman in the woods and make her talk. As a cop, there are things I just can't do."

"Nick, this goes beyond the law. Monroe told me about the Mellifers. You let her go once before, and you saw what happened tonight. Even without her powers, she's still deadly."

"Well, I can't risk losing my badge even if she is. But I don't think she'll try anything now that she knows she can't win."

"I hope you're right, Nick." I sighed in frustration. "God, I hope you're right."

As we approached our cars, I took one more look at the man I loved because of that stupid witch. I was feeling better, but I still needed an antidote, and fast.

Nick opened the door to his truck. His cell phone rang inside and he fumbled around the car seat to retrieve it. "Burkhardt," he answered. Nick turned his head toward me. It had to be Monroe.

I held my arms as his eyes turned steel gray. Crap, I could hear Monroe's grated tone from where I was standing.

"She's fine," Nick assured him. "We're both fine." He leaned against his truck, shaking his head at me.

Oh, boy. I was going to get more than a lecture tonight.

There was a long pause on Nick's end as he closed his eyes. Monroe was probably taking his time to yell and berate my decisions. While I couldn't make out the words, I was picking up the yelling part just fine.

"Is Hank okay?" Nick managed to finally find a break in the conversation to ask. "Hank woke up, he's fine," he said in my direction.

I let out a relieved sigh. Thank goodness!

"We're heading back now," he told Monroe. "We'll talk more when we get there." Nick shoved his phone in his pocket, looking up at me. "So, you left and didn't tell Monroe?" His tone was incredulous.

"If I had, do you think he would've let me leave?"

"Of course not."

"Exactly," I replied as I got into my car.

Nick shook his head at me as I closed the door.

I followed Nick back to Adalind's as I hummed Robert Palmer's 'Bad Case of Lovin' You.' And, boy, did I. Hopefully, unlike the song, there was something that would cure it. Nick should've let me take care of Adalind. Tonight she was the one with luck on her side.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Monroe and Rosalee were waiting outside when we pulled up to the condo. As I stepped out of the car, Monroe wasted no time and was right on me.

"What the hell, Renée!" he yelled as I stood facing the inferno of red in his eyes. He sniffed me, growling as he clenched his fists. "Why do you smell like Nick… again?" He took another breath through his nose. "And his blood, too?"

I closed my car door. "I'm sorry, but let's not do this right now, okay?"

Monroe backed off, but his glare remained firmly in place.

"Where's the Hexenbiest?" Rosalee asked with concern as Monroe removed his eyes from me and focused on Nick.

Nick briefly described what happened at the ruins, including Adalind getting away scot free.

Monroe gestured his arms out wide. "And you just let her run off?"

I gave Nick a 'See, I'm not the only one who thinks you should've taken her out' look, which he ignored.

"She said she was nothing," Nick replied simply with a shrug. "I killed the Hexenbiest, apparently, although I was a little shocked at what that actually looked like." He turned back to Adalind's building. "Where's Hank?"

Monroe cleared his throat. "Well, he was kinda wondering what we were doing in Adalind's bedroom, so, uh, we got him some water and…" Rosalee shot Monroe a look. "Yeah, well, now he's getting dressed to leave, so we decided to, you know, just wait out here, instead of in there."

What kind of crazy story could they have come up with? Monroe was usually a bad liar, so Rosalee must have come up with something good.

"I really don't want Hank seeing me here, so let's head back to the spice shop," Nick decided. "We still have another antidote to figure out."

"I have to stop by my house for the tarts," I reminded him. "We'll meet you back there."

"Don't take too long," Nick replied, grinning at me. Monroe cast him an intimidating glare, and Nick's grin quickly faded. "I mean, hurry up so we can fix this," he corrected himself.

"That better be what you meant," Monroe muttered as he opened my passenger side door.

* * *

A/N: So Renée and Nick took down Adalind, but Nick wouldn't let Renée finish what she started. Ah well...

Skipping ahead with more info for Nick about the seven keys.

Been listening to "Daylight" quite a bit and even though that song came out well past my timeline, I used it anyway. Maybe Renée and Nick will be able to get along after this. Guess we'll see.

4 more chapters today - 7 more in total to go!


	114. Chapter 114

**Chapter 114**

Before I could even buckle up, Monroe began the lectures. I was going to get myself killed if I kept this up, I wasn't using my brain, I was so incredibly frustrating… Monroe kept going the whole car ride back to my house. I just nodded. It was useless to respond.

"Are you even listening to me?" he asked in exasperation. "You haven't said a word."

"I'm listening." I looked into his eyes, throbbing bright red. "Nothing I say will make you understand, so it's best if I just keep quiet."

"Make me understand _what_? Understand that you lied to me, yet again I might add, and ran off to jeopardize yourself when you had no reason to?" He let out a snort. "And you were off, by yourself, with Nick…"

"I only went to help him," I explained quickly. "What if that Hexenbiest had killed Nick out there?" I held my chest where she'd pushed me. She was strong, and I didn't want to see the bruise that was forming under my shirt. "I had to make sure he was all right."

"And her killing you instead would've been better, how?"

"'Ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do and die,'" I replied.

"You're quoting Tennyson?" he questioned me. "Man, I can think of plenty of good reasons why you don't need to be involving yourself with the doing or the dying. You know, this ain't the light brigade; this is your life we're talking about. "

"Well, Hank might've been the one dying if Nick hadn't succeeded." I was trying not to cry. Since my woge had left me, I'd been fighting back tears. While I was getting better at not fainting from the rush, it still had me shook up. "And with both of us there, I could've given her my blood if Nick couldn't."

"You heard what your grandmother said about Waldgeists and Hexenbiests. Who knows what Waldgeist blood might do inside one? I mean, that might make her even more powerful for all we know."

"I forgot about that." Dammit, he was right. I hadn't even thought about my Waldgeist side with all this. "I just wanted to keep Nick and his partner safe." The tears pressed behind my eyes, threatening to let loose. I wasn't going to break down. We had another antidote to make, so I could stop loving Detective Sexy. I had to hold myself together and focus.

"You gotta keep yourself safe, too." Monroe's fingers traced over my ripped skirt. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you. I mean, I thought I'd lost you with this whole Nick thing already, and lemme tell ya, that about killed me. Well, it almost killed Nick, too, if I hadn't controlled myself. You gotta promise me you'll stop throwing yourself into the paths of peril. I can't take it, man."

"So are we gonna be okay?" I asked in almost a whisper.

Monroe sighed as he let my skirt go. "I can't answer that right now… Not after this."

"Then I can't promise anything." The car jerked as I pulled into my driveway and hastily threw it into park. "I can't hold it back anymore. I've been holding back all my life, and now I know why I have these feelings, and why I see what I can see. I have to do what I can with it, and sometimes that's going to be risky."

Monroe sighed deeply, throwing his seat belt off with equal vigor. "Since when have you ever held back? I mean, from the long list of cockamamie tales Chloe has told me, you rush in where even the angels won't tread, man, and probably a lot of other things would be afraid to go there, too, for that matter."

"Excuse me?" My nostrils flared. Did he just call me a fool? What did Chloe tell him? Crap. "There have been plenty of times where I've held back." I maintained my tone, although I wanted to yell. "Just because you haven't seen that side of me, doesn't mean I haven't." I turned to face him. "What does it matter anyway? You're telling me that you don't want to lose me, yet you say that you don't know if we're gonna be okay. So, don't worry about what I do."

"Now wait a minute… Don't try to mix the two here. Regardless of whatever happens to us, I still care about your safety."

"Monroe, I am from a bloodline of protectors and hunters. So, I'm going to hunt down the ones that the rest need protection from. End of story. You wanna help me? Great. If not, then don't complain when I go do it alone." I yanked off my seat belt and leaned against the steering wheel. My nerves were shot as I shook on the inside, but Monroe wouldn't back off me.

"Stubborn… so, so, so, stubborn!" he growled. "Then you're going to have to learn to defend yourself or something." I glanced over while he tugged at the whiskers on his chin. "And I don't mean with a gun either."

"Maybe I'll take up taekwondo," I chuckled sardonically, resting my head back on the steering wheel. "Or maybe I'll just keep a supply of metal pipes on hand. I'm good with those."

"Do we really have to go there?" The car seat squeaked under him as he shifted around. "Let's not talk about that again, dude."

"Why not?" I turned and stared him. "I took down a Reaper and so did you. And then they _magically_ disappeared."

"What happened wasn't magic, I can assure you of that," he replied dourly. "Look, I was in a bad place when all that happened. As hard as it is, I'm trying to get back on track."

"As long as no red ropes are involved," I muttered under my breath.

"Hey now! We really aren't going to go there either," he growled again. "At least I'm trying to curb my instincts, which is more than I can say for you."

"Well, at least my instincts don't…" I paused. My anger was bursting inside, and I was directing it toward Monroe.

"Don't what?" he snapped back.

I shook my head. Softening my tone, I replied, "I'm stressed, poisoned, and I'm just not in the right frame of mind to discuss this." I reached for his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Well, so am I," he replied bitterly. "I mean, I'm not poisoned, but you know what I mean."

I looked up at him as the angry red in his eyes permeated. "The last thing I want to do is fight about this." I squeezed his shoulder and dropped my hand. "Let's just go inside, so we can get those tarts to Rosalee," I added, letting the subject go. I didn't want to know how he'd gotten rid of the Reapers, nor did I want to insult him. I shouldn't have brought any of it up.

"I don't want to fight either." He opened the car door. "But the sooner you're de-zaubertrankified, the better."

* * *

A/N: A little more angst building up after Renée went behind Monroe's back.

3 more chapters for today...


	115. Chapter 115

**Chapter 115**

Nick and Rosalee were waiting for us when we opened the spice shop door. Pinched between my two fingers was the Ziploc of Doom. I held the bag of cursed apple tarts toward Rosalee like it was a rabid animal while Monroe set the spell books down on the table.

"Here's what I think she used," I said as she took the bag from me.

"There's a few in here." Rosalee stared at the contents and then at me. "How many did you eat?"

"Two when she first made them and maybe four or five more since they've been in my freezer."

"Well, it's a good thing you didn't eat them all." Rosalee shook her head. "You two wouldn't have been able to stop yourselves if you had."

To think it could have been worse than this was unimaginable.

"So, are there enough to tell you which Zaubertrank she used?" I asked Rosalee, who was already mixing chemicals into a beaker.

"There should be." She looked up and nodded. "I ought to be able to isolate the ingredients of the different Zaubertranks to determine which ones these tarts contain. Once I know the ingredient that's different from the others, I can pin down the right love potion."

"I hope it's quick," Monroe huffed out, "'Cause with that chemically induced, highly potent, amorferous concoction pumping away at their brains, these two can't be left alone without their mouths snapping together like magnets." He shot me a sideways glance.

Oh, he must have figured out why I had Nick's blood on me. Crap. I reached for my mouth instinctively as I sat down. My eyes met Nick's, who had good enough sense to look ashamed, too.

Monroe sat down beside me as everything about him was cross. His arms, legs, and even his face held it in plain view. We'd snipped at each other on the way back from my house, and then apologized again, but it was getting worse. All the stress between both of us was coming out any way it could, and unfortunately it was with our words. I hummed as I glanced over at Monroe, who seemed transfixed on a photo on the back wall.

"_In the fear of defeat  
Is a chance I believe  
To return to who we once were meant to be._

_But I got you,  
You got me.  
Got a chance,  
I believe,  
If love will come and break the spell tonight._

_I got hope,  
There's a way,  
We can make it one more day,  
If love will come and break the spell tonight…"_

Monroe tensed as I laid my hand on his back. I let go quickly. Hopefully this would end. What if our bickering was the proverbial straw and he didn't want me after this? I couldn't handle losing him. I had to be hopeful that breaking the Zaubertrank would bring him back to me.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Time passed slowly as Rosalee worked diligently on her idea. Fortunately, there were enough tarts for her to experiment. Finally she swirled a beaker until the liquid turned yellow.

"I have it," she proclaimed as a smile passed across her lips. "And I'm glad we tested it, because she lied, big time."

I held my breath. Dammit, I hated Adalind more than anything! Thank goodness I had enough willpower not to eat all of those damn tarts.

"The Zaubertrank she used is called, 'Toujours dans L'amour.'"

"Forever in Love?" Monroe asked. He knew more French than he let on.

Rosalee nodded. "The difference between the two was the powdered moonstone."

"Yum," I quipped. "So is there an antidote for this one?"

"Yes. Since you two haven't... Well, what Adalind and Hank did."

"No. We're fine," I nodded at her.

"Surprisingly," Monroe muttered.

"Then we can fix this." She looked at me with her big, brown eyes and this time she seemed sure of herself.

"Will this have to be administered with the nose plunger thing?" Nick asked with concern.

"No, this is something you drink."

"Okay, good." He looked relieved. Depending on the ingredients, I might have preferred the nez-soufflet instead.

We sat patiently as Rosalee worked on the antidote. I offered to help, but she assured me it wouldn't take too long and she could manage. Monroe and I remained seated together while Nick sat across the room from us. I tried hard not to look at him, chanting my 'Blue Beard' mantra while we waited. I wanted this over so Nick and Monroe would stop looking daggers at each other.

The lyrics of Everclear's 'Broken' came to me and I hummed for a bit, watching Rosalee.

"_I wish I could push a button and make the pain all go away.  
I wish I had the magic words, but I don't know what to say.  
You are going to find a way to fix what's broken…"_

Rosalee moved to the back shelves, pulling jars and bottles. Liquids were poured into the flask, as the colors changed with each addition; from orange to pink, then to green.

While we waited, I organized the dozens of books that we'd pulled searching for all these Zaubertranks. I had to keep my mind busy and stop thinking. After the books, I organized jars, and then when that was done, I finally settled back down beside Monroe, who had gone from cross back to stoic. I couldn't read him at all.

"One last ingredient to go," said Rosalee and we all turned in her direction. She pinched off a bit of white powder with her fingers and dropped it in. The color in the flask changed from green to yellow. "Okay, it's complete." She turned off her Bunsen burner. "Now it'll need to cool, and then it's important that you drink it all in one sitting. I will warn you, the taste may be _strong_ due to the…"

"Yeah, let's not know what's in it," Nick urged.

I bobbed my head in agreement. The less we knew about the ingredients the better.

"It's going to burn," she said. "The antidote removes the schwarzherz from your tongue, which severs the bond and counteracts the attraction that goes along with it." Rosalee shook her head solemnly. "It won't be comfortable."

"Well, it has to be done." I shrugged. There was no pleasure without pain. Smokey Robinson said it best.

"_Oh, 'cause love like ours is never, ever free.  
You pay some agony for the ecstasy…"_

I'd had my fair share of agony already due to this love potion. What was one more pang?

We waited for it to cool as Rosalee instructed, and then we both took a vial of the yellow liquid in our hands.

"Bottoms up," said Nick with that sexy, toothy grin of his.

We drank them down simultaneously. The taste was more than just strong, it was downright disgusting. I gagged and coughed while trying not to bring it right back up. Nick was doing nearly the same thing.

"Now it's going to take about ten to fifteen minutes to settle in," Rosalee noted, "but you'll start to notice the effects of your love vanish soon after the burning stops."

My stomach lurched as a wave of nausea hit me like a Mack truck. I doubled over, but managed to shuffle across the room and sit back down beside Monroe. My eyes shut tightly, trying to keep from retching. If I did that, then surely it would all come back up.

"Are ya going to be able to handle this?" Monroe asked with concern.

"I've had worse at the bar." I tried to laugh, but then coughed instead. I reached for my mouth, swallowing back the bile.

Monroe held me as he said, "Let's just hope this works."

I kept peering over at Nick, sitting all alone. He was holding his stomach and his face was a horrible shade of green. Was it a side-effect of the antidote or was he just as nauseous as I was?

My stomach twisted and turned as I leaned forward, trying to breathe slowly. Once the nausea receded I stilled, but before I could relax the burning began. I yelped out in spite of barely being able to move my tongue. It was like eating a dozen habaneros all in one bite. My face flushed with heat as I held it in my hands. Pain stabbed down into my throat, eroding my esophagus. Tears poured from my eyes as I stifled my cries. This was my punishment and I would suffer silently for the rest of it.

"How… long… does it… burn?" gasped out Nick, whose face was beet red.

"Maybe about five more minutes, give or take," said Rosalee softly.

I wanted to die. Maybe I was dying. Monroe continued to hold me as the minutes dragged on by. Eventually the pain lessened. I tried to swallow, and while it was still agonizing, it was better.

I tested to see if I loved Nick. Yeah, still felt it. Another few minutes passed as the burn diminished a bit more. I checked again. Yeah, the love was still there. After another few minutes the burn had ceased, and I stared a bit blankly at Nick. The veil was lifting as my brain cleared slightly. Nick nodded at me and I tried not to roll my eyes.

"I think it's working," I rasped out while looking back at Monroe.

"You sure?" he doubtfully asked.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm feeling my usual hint of disdain right now." Just the thought of kissing that jerk sent a shudder of revulsion through me. Why the hell had I done that?!

"Let me check. Hold out your tongue," she directed.

I cracked open my mouth, trying not to grimace and she nodded in approval. She checked Nick's tongue and seemed satisfied.

"I'll get you guys some ice water," offered Rosalee.

Rosalee returned with two glasses. I downed mine instantly, holding a piece of ice to my tongue as it melted almost immediately.

"The inflammation ought to be gone completely by tomorrow," she said.

I looked into my cup. I was gonna need more ice.

Nick walked over and eyed me a few times. "It seems to have worked. No offense Renée, but I've got the love of my life waiting for me at home."

"No offense, Nick, but don't talk to me right now, okay?" My anger was more than boiling over. Just looking at him added to it. "God, I'm glad this is over with."

Monroe took each of us by the shoulder. "And no offense to either of you, but you better not eat anything else made by a Hexenbiest again or I swear…"

"That, you don't have to worry about," I cut in, halting his warning. It would be a long while before I trusted apples again.

He nodded and looked at me with brown eyes that I couldn't read. "Just make sure you know what you're eating, before, you know, you actually eat it." He glanced over at Nick. "That goes for both of you, okay?"

"That'll be the last potluck I participate in," Nick replied shaking his head. "I still don't know how she snuck in that pie, though."

"Not much of a detective, are you?" I mumbled so that Nick couldn't hear.

Monroe chuckled. "The antidote definitely worked." Monroe, on other hand, had no problem hearing.

"Thank you, Rosalee," I said as I turned in her direction. She smiled warmly as she cleaned up her table. "You're a wonderful and amazing woman."

That Fuchsbau had saved lives and relationships today. She deserved a medal. I moved toward her and gave her a hug, taking her off guard again.

"I'm glad I could help," she said into my ear.

"And I'm really glad you're staying in Portland for a while," I replied as I let her go.

* * *

A/N: Whew! So the spell is broken! I might not like Monrosalee, but I *love* Rosalee. (:

Your author has eaten one whole habanero and let me tell you, it hurts... A lot... I can't even fathom a dozen in one setting. LOL!


	116. Chapter 116

**Chapter 116**

The three of us walked out of the spice shop and into the cool, night air. I glanced up toward the sky. Even though the Hexenbiest part of Adalind was dead, something gnawed at me that it wasn't over. No, Nick shouldn't have let her walk off so easily.

"I should probably get home," Nick said to us. "I can't wait to hear from Hank about his date." He laughed and flashed that stupid, toothy grin of his and then got into his truck. Surely Detective Swagger would have much to tell.

I looked toward Monroe once Nick drove off. "So, I guess I should probably head home, too. You wanna join me?" I asked cautiously.

"I've got some things to do at home. You go on." He leaned toward me, but then paused and drew back. "You still have his scent all over you," he groaned.

"Are we going to be okay? Please say that we are." I tried not to beg, but I was about to.

"I can't answer that yet." He slightly twitched as he forced his hands into his pockets. "Go home, get some sleep, and rest that tongue of yours, okay?"

"I'd sleep better if you were with me."

"Just trust me and get some rest. We'll… talk soon."

I sighed, but understood. This hadn't been easy to deal with. Zaubertrank or not, he had watched his best friend make out with me, and then I'd said that I loved him. Loved him! Oh, it was horrible! Then we'd argued in the car. What a disaster! If Monroe ever wanted to have anything else to do with me again, it would be a miracle in itself. I had to respect his request and go home alone tonight. I deserved much worse than that.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Brenda Lee's 'I'm Sorry' played through my car speakers on the drive back, and I tried not to cry. This wasn't my fault, but the guilt for everything this past week pressed against my chest. If only there was a magical scrub brush to erase all the kissing and other things out of my brain. The nausea returned just thinking about it.

I immediately took a shower when I got home. It wasn't magical, but the body puff helped cleanse my skin from Nick's touch. My chest was sore, but not just from the large bruise. As I lathered up, I finally couldn't hold it in anymore and I cried. The tears drifted down the drain along with everything else. But the tears were brief. I was stronger than this. I wasn't weak. The worst was over, and I could repair what had been destroyed. I had to believe that.

My tongue stabbed like a raging sunburn as I brushed my teeth. At least the antidote had worked, but would things go back to normal after this? Well, my version of normal, at least. Things were never really normal.

I wrapped myself in my comfy, flannel PJs and stepped outside to get the mail. Amongst the usual bills was a large, thin package. I took it inside and laid it on my coffee table. It didn't have a return address, but the postmark was from Louisville. Carefully, I ripped open the top and peeked inside. Oh, wow. Donnie had outdone himself. I slid out a flawless looking record cover with a large, Post-It note from my turtle friend in the center.

**Renée,  
Sorry this took longer to find than I thought it would. It wasn't easy, but when does that ever stop me? Before you ask, this one's on me, my little dudette. I think you know why. I hope your boyfriend appreciates this. He's one lucky dude.**

**-Donnie**

One lucky dude? That statement was laughable. What a time for this to arrive. I peeled off the note to reveal Hugues Nuages smiling back while giving me a six-fingered wave. I slid out the disc, which was like new. Perhaps it had never been played. Surely not everyone was a Zither fan. Maybe I'd be able to give this to Monroe once things were better between us.

I put the disc back in its cover and went upstairs. The red wrapping paper was still out from when I'd wrapped Monroe's last gift. I picked up the roll. Why not? It was still his favorite color, right? Instead of a red ribbon, I settled on a white one.

"The better to tie me up with," I quipped aloud. Perhaps going with red at all was a bad idea. I shook my head. No, it was fine as long as I wasn't wearing it.

After taking my time with the wrapping, I went back downstairs and laid the gift on the coffee table. My tongue was still on fire, so I grabbed a large cup of ice from the kitchen, and settled on the couch.

I chewed on ice chips as I sat in a daze. TV didn't pacify my feelings. Fifteen minutes into a show, and I had no clue what they were even going on about. I paced through the house. I cleaned, I paid bills, and I even finished my flow charts while trying to distract my thoughts. None of it was helping. There was only one thing that would help. I called Monroe.

"I'm sorry," I said as he answered the phone.

"Hun, you don't have to keep apologizing," he sighed. "You've apologized enough already."

"But I feel so… Oh, it's just awful," I sighed in return. "Monroe, I…"

The words hung on my burned tongue. I wanted to scream from the rooftops this crazy "L" word, but I couldn't say it over the phone. Not after what I'd done. I couldn't believe I'd said it to Nick. I should've known something was wrong sooner when I did that. But now I knew, and I'd screwed up. I loved Monroe. I loved him with every clichéd phrase and every romantic song ever written. And now that my mind agreed with my heart, was it too late?

"Renée?" Monroe asked. I'd stopped talking and was thinking.

"Sorry. I just wanted to say that I don't deserve you. And I'm sorry I lied to you today... and all those other times. You deserve better than this." Tears ran down my cheeks, and I sniffled into the phone.

"Renée, now don't cry," he softly replied. "Man, it's not about whether or not I deserve you. None of this was easy on either one of us."

"It was wrong to argue with you tonight. I don't want to lose you. The universe says we belong together, Monroe," I continued, sounding so incredibly needy, but I didn't care. "You and I… we belong together."

Monroe took in a breath. "Maybe so, but the universe doesn't mention what happens if I lose you because you've gone off and done something senseless because of, you know, some gut feeling or whatever. With your recklessness I might lose you in a whole other way. I can't handle that, you know? Things are gonna need to change, though. But, man, I don't know if you _can_ change."

"I'll find a balance. We can talk about it. Come over and I'll make coffee."

Monroe let out a short chuckle. "Don't you have to work in the morning?"

"Yeah, but I'll sleep later or call in sick or something."

"No, don't call in. I'll phone you when I'm ready to talk, okay?"

"Tomorrow?" I asked timidly.

"Let's see how tonight goes." He let out a deliberate sigh. "I just need to think for a while, you know?"

I held back more tears. He was done with me. It was obvious. All the lies and the deceit were too much. My inner fourteen year old was full of doleful angst. "I'm going to try to get some sleep," I said, instead of all the other crazy thoughts in my head.

"That sounds like a good idea. Goodnight, Renée."

As I hung up the phone, the tears fell again. I hooked up my MP3 player, until I found Blake Shelton. When your heart hurt like mine did, country was the way to go.

"_Why do I do the things I do?  
Was I born this way? Am I a self-made fool?  
I shoot the lights and curse the dark.  
I need your love but I break your heart.  
And I know the words that'll bring you back,  
But I don't say nothin' as I watch you pack.  
I had to work to be the jerk I've come to be.  
It ain't easy bein' me…"_

I picked up my phone again. I should call him back and tell him the words I wanted to say. Staring at the phone, I shook my head. No, he needed time. I'd give him tonight then tell him tomorrow. I set the phone back down.

Instead, I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. I could drink my tears away. That went with the country song theme, too. The bottle of tequila was inviting as I picked it up and held it in my hands. If I drank that bottle down I'd forget just about everything tonight. Might as well enjoy the perks of my Waldgeist abilities; no hangover in the morning. I shook my head, again. It was just a temporary fix. I'd stay drunk if that were the case. I put the bottle away and closed the fridge door with a sigh.

For several minutes I paced the floors. There was no way I could sleep. For the next couple of hours I sat angled in my chair, staring up at my cuckoo clock as the minute hand ticked forward again and again, inexorably making its way around the face.

"_Time, why you punish me?"_

I sang out the words. Time. How much did any of us really have? And how much time had I wasted this week because of Adalind Schade? I wasn't using my abilities. Adalind was artificial, not because of her job, but because I knew. Pete was wrong; not everyone was good at heart. His philosophy had a nice sentiment, but I needed to wise up and listen to my Waldgeist side. These instincts about people were there for a reason. I'd been used and abused far too long. It was time to Wesen up.

Another few minutes passed. I thought about this rollercoaster ride of crazy I'd ridden with Nick Burkhardt. Zaubertrank aside, I'd meant what I'd said to Nick in the ruins; I didn't want to hate him. Granted, right now I loathed everything about him. The shock of it all had hit me full force while my mind cleared, and the anger still lingered. But I didn't want to hate him in the long run. Someway, somehow we'd get back to normal. I'd help him with the database, and he'd help me wield a morning star over my head. (Hey, Monroe's idea wasn't all that bad, actually.) But we'd find a way to work together and figure out the rest of Mr. Royal Pain's plans, and then we'd stop him. I needed to Grimm up, too.

The minute hand ticked once more as both it and the hour hand settled on the twelve. My bird sang his sweet song, alerting me it was midnight. This day of hell was officially over. I wanted Monroe here. I needed to make up for lost time. It was a new day and I loved him; my heart and mind were ready. Together they would put these fears aside and live in the moment. When I saw Monroe next time, he would know. The crazy 'L' word needed to be said in person. Once it was, then we'd just have to see where that part of our story would take us. Maybe he'd reject me, or tell me that what I'd done was inexcusable, but I would still tell him how I felt.

No matter what, no one else would ever hurt Monroe again, especially not me. Never again. I felt like I should be standing on a hillside somewhere with the theme from _Gone With the Wind_ playing off in the distance. A quick chuckle escaped me at the imagery. It felt good to laugh.

"As God is my witness, I'll never hurt my Blutbad again," I said in my southern drawl. It was the durn truth.

I trotted into my bedroom. The red towel was still on the edge of my bed. I shook my head and tossed it into the garbage can where it belonged.

* * *

A/N: Monroe needs some time to think and Renée can't stop thinking, either... Donnie made good on his promise about the record, but will she get to give it to Monroe?

1 more chapter today. (:


	117. Chapter 117

**Chapter 117**

The nightmares had me tossing and turning most of the night. I was fighting ghost Hexenbiests with Nick, who then proposed, and I was trying to get out of the wedding by eating hot peppers. It seemed the stupid dreams hadn't worked their way out of my system yet.

When I awoke the next morning I touched my teeth to my tongue. It was fine now, thank goodness. I glanced at the clock. Six o'clock. I had an early meeting at seven-thirty and I was already exhausted. I sang aloud as I showered while I thought of Monroe.

"_Here I am at six o'clock in the morning,__  
__Still thinking about you.__  
__It's still hard, at six o'clock in the morning,__  
__To sleep without you.__  
__And I know that it might,__  
__Seem too late for love.__  
__All I know,__  
__I need you now.__  
__More than words can say,__  
__I need you now…"_

I'd missed Monroe so much last night. Hopefully tonight we'd talk and things would be all right. I went to work and resumed the guise of my normal life.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

By evening Monroe hadn't called. I held the phone in my hands. Should I call him? No… I called my BFF instead.

Chloe listened quietly as I told her everything like I'd promised I would, from the Bitch Witch and the Zaubertranks to the multiple antidotes and Mr. Royal Pain. I left nothing out.

"So you're telling me you were in a room full of Hexenbiests? Dammit, Renée," she sighed. "It's amazing they didn't tear you limb from limb. You sure know how to pick 'em," she chided. "You're gonna have to come up with a better screening process."

"Yeah." I folded my legs under me on the couch. "Ice cold hands and less than genuine personalities are dead giveaways."

"I'll say. Well, unless they use a potion to cover it up."

"At least I've learned my lesson."

"Let's hope so. Renée, they could've done so much more than a Zaubertrank. You know that, right?"

"Well, whoever this Royal is, he makes all the decisions. I'm just glad the worst is over with."

"No, it's not. You may have removed one of the Hexenbiest's powers, but there are still four other Hexenbiests vying for revenge on their sister."

"As long as they think their Zaubertrank worked, then I'll be safe."

"Well, if this guy is watching you two, it's gonna be pretty obvious that you both aren't an item."

"It's not like Monroe is hanging around, so…"

"Monroe will be back. Just give him some space and let him take time to process it all. You know I tried to tell you to stop this bullshit," she reminded me.

"I was under a Zaubertrank. No one could've told me to stop."

"You wouldn't have listened even if it hadn't been a Zaubertrank," she laughed.

"No, I wouldn't have done it all if it wasn't for that damn bitch of a Hexenbiest." I grabbed the pillow off the couch, holding it tight. "What if he doesn't call?"

"He'll come back. That guy is crazy about you, or maybe just crazy. One or the other. Either way, he'll come back."

"Thanks." I replied bitterly. Chloe wasn't always the sweetest with her pep talks. For someone who was counselor, there was usually an edge to her advice. Maybe that worked for her high schoolers, but it wasn't what I needed right now.

"I meant crazy in a good way," she added almost as an afterthought. "Anyway, what I mean is it's obvious that he loves you. He knows this Zaubertrank wasn't something you willingly did to yourself."

"It's more than just the Zaubertrank. I hold things back from him and running off to Nick in the ruins didn't help things either," I groaned.

"Yeah, that was pretty stupid, in more ways than one," Chloe agreed with a scowl. "It's like this… You either trust him or you don't. He needs you to be open and honest with him, kind of the way I need you to be with me," she said while clicking her teeth. "He's not Jack. You don't have to hide it all from him."

"I've never been in a relationship where I didn't have to hide everything."

"So now you're in one where you can be yourself for once. That's a good thing, right?"

"I guess, but it's just hard to get out of that mode."

"Well, you're gonna have to figure it out and quick. I hate to cut this short, but I've got people waiting on me to come back from my beer run."

"You and Thor gonna celebrate your last night with a few bottles?"

"Thor? Nah. I let him go."

"Really? I figured you'd stay with him until you left."

"Thor isn't a guy you keep. He's like renting an ocean-side view. It's beautiful to look at, makes you feel happy while you're there, but in the end you know some other tramp is gonna have it booked the week after you're gone."

"Ah," I laughed. "Good analogy."

"Monroe isn't like Thor, Renée. He's a good guy and worth keeping."

"Thanks, Chloe." In a backwards way, that was Chloe's compliment. Of course, she didn't know about our role playing games, the domination, the ropes, or the crazy scare tactics, either. Some things were best not sharing. "So who are you drinking with?" I asked.

"Just a group of vacationers I'm partying with tonight."

I laughed. "Make sure the ones you're running to get beer for are old enough to drink it."

"Hey, I work for the school system. I'm not letting anyone underage drink. It goes against my educational code of ethics. Now if they have a fake ID, then I can't be held responsible."

"Tell the cops that before they haul you off to jail."

"I'll be fine," she chuckled. "Try to be safe for me and I'll see you in a little over a week, right?"

"Yeah," I replied. "I miss you so much."

"You too, girl."

I set my phone down beside me on the couch and made my way to the bedroom. I needed yoga and some Rocky Road.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Nightfall came and I'd had two bowls of ice cream, drizzled with tears. If only I'd bought some a week ago, I could've thrown out those damn tarts and saved myself some heartache. Honestly, I should've never taken the tarts to begin with. But even if I hadn't gone to the party at all, Nick would've still had his apple pie, and then it would've been a one-sided mess. I shook my head. There was just no good solution with woulda, coulda, and shoulda.

I tossed the empty bowl on the coffee table and crossed my arms as I leaned back on the couch. My eyes met my cell phone, willing it to ring. It set there as quiet as a mouse. No… No, I wouldn't sit here and wait. I got up, showered, and then dressed. I would just go to him… run to him. Hold him and tell him I loved him.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Bob Segar's smooth voice played loudly in my car as I drove toward Monroe's.

"_I think I've found the real love.__  
__Genuine and true.__  
__I think it's really come my way today.__  
__I think it's really you…"_

As I turned on to Monroe's street my heart sank. His VW wasn't there. I parked my Malibu and sat a moment. Maybe he'd gone on a late night run to the store. I'd just wait here until he returned.

A half an hour soon turned into an hour, then two. Well, the stores didn't stay open this late. I pulled out my phone and called him. The trilling continued until his voicemail picked up. I ended the call. Where the hell was he? Maybe he was in trouble. Horrid thoughts of Hexenbiests seeking revenge flashed through my mind.

I called Nick.

"Uh, hi." The uncomfortable response came through the phone as Nick answered.

"Hey. I'm sorry to call, but I'm worried about Monroe. He's not at home, and I haven't heard from him, and…"

"He's fine," Nick said, cutting me off. "He's with me."

"With you?" They'd made up already? Wow…

"Yeah, we're just talking things out."

"Are you at the trailer? Can I come over? I need to see him."

Nick sighed. "Now's not a good time," he simply replied. "But you don't have to worry. He's fine, and we're good."

"Well, let me talk to him at least. Why didn't he answer his phone?"

"Renée, it's just not a good time right now," Nick replied a bit more adamantly. "Just trust me on this one."

Dammit to hell!

"Fine, okay," I said as calmly as I could. "As long as he's safe then that's fine." I hung up before Nick could reply.

My head fell back against the car seat. Monroe hated me. That was it. My heart ached as I reached for my chest. He could've just answered and told me himself. My recklessness said to just drive over to the trailer and confront him. Even if he hated me, I still needed to tell him that I loved him. I didn't care if Nick heard me profess my love. I shook my head. No. I'd respect his wishes. With a heavy sigh, I drove home.

* * *

A/N: So... It looks like Monroe and Nick are making up, but it still leaves Renée on her own.

**Edit:** I've written another Monroe's POV chapter for this called _After the Zaubertrank was Dispelled_. It's in the "Monroe's Story" fan-fic if you wanna read what Monroe and Nick talked about. There might be a few spoilers if you read it right after this chapter, so if you want to remain spoiler-free, finish this story, then go back and read the chapter. (:

Stopping here for today. Last 3 chapters tomorrow before Grimm airs. My gosh, I can't believe this story is drawing to a close...

Comments/thoughts encouraged. Thanks for continuing to read, and as always... STAY TUNED! (:


	118. Chapter 118

**Chapter 118**

Four days. I glanced at the cuckoo. Four days, an hour, and seven minutes to be exact since I'd last talked to Monroe on the phone. Four days, four weeks, four months… What did it matter? My self-pity train had made treks around the world in the last few days. Chloe's melodrama was nothing compared to mine. But it was fine. I'd gone through the five stages of grief and was ending today on acceptance. It was over. We'd never been apart this long. He wouldn't answer my phone calls, and I was too prideful to go throw myself at his front door in a heap of tears. No, I was above groveling at least. Oh, melodrama. Monroe had every right to hate me. Acceptance. Yes, I'd just go with acceptance. It was over.

Fortunately work had been slow, so I'd spent most of my time closed off in my office, absorbed in plans for Denver with Daniel at my side. Even he wasn't bothering me so much. Work kept me sane. If I'd stopped for a second to think about Monroe, I'd relive the hell which was that Zaubertrank all over again. The few co-workers I had seen asked what was wrong. Wearing my pain clashed with my usually sunny disposition, so I couldn't hide it… Honestly I didn't want to. I'd feigned being under the weather, but they weren't buying that excuse. Hell, I didn't buy it either.

Each night when I'd went home, despair tugged at my heart. Sometimes in bed, if I closed my eyes and listened long enough, I could almost hear the cricket chirps of his VW. He'd never be outside, of course, but I'd go out and check just to make sure. Never had I felt such love for someone only for it to be too late. Too damn late. Four days, one hour, and now twelve minutes too late.

I'd had the weekend off, so the last couple of days I'd occupied my time with Natalie, Sandra, and Rosalee. It was amazing how quickly my schedule cleared up from being with two guys to none. One thing I wouldn't do was sit at home and sulk. I had a life to live and friends who cared about me. My inner fourteen year old would've loved to pine away while sitting in the house alone, but that just wasn't gonna cut it.

Explaining to Natalie my temporary insanity with loving Nick was an interesting feat, but I'd managed to convince her I'd had a lapse in judgment, and now I was suffering the consequences of losing both of them. She'd offered to set me up a dating profile, to which I'd tactfully declined. It was way too soon to start looking for replacements. I didn't want to replace Monroe. I still loved him and my heart wasn't ready to give up completely. No, I'd resign myself to being on my own for a while.

With my free time, I'd read Natalie's article, which was surprisingly well written. Maybe she had a flair for journalism, after all. She was already working on a review piece for a coffee shop that hosted a poetry slam monthly, which I was recruited to go 'witness' with her… an enlightening experience, to put it politely. She'd met a 'poet' there named Jeremiah, who I was pretty certain was Wesen, but hadn't seen the woge for proof. I'd been a third wheel on an impromptu date. Again, a real enlightening experience. They had plans to see each other next week, so I was happy for my friend.

I'd done a little retail therapy (Chloe's advice) at Sandra's boutique, and we'd hung out after she closed the shop. Sandra seemed relieved that Monroe might not return. She didn't trust Blutbaden, much like most of the Wesen community. When she had asked what happened, I'd alluded to bad choices, leaving it at that. Although my Squirrel friend was privy to the knowledge that I was a Grimm, she wasn't ready to go further down the rabbit hole of all the things it entailed. Small steps. Perhaps I could share more with her later, but for now the longer she remained in the dark, the safer she'd be.

Sandra was still painting, and there was talk about Madame Dazzles' galleries getting new ownership. She said that it was a human this time, which I was relieved about. Sandra had mentioned that she'd heard from the Nussesser grapevine that a Waschbar fitting Lydia's description was seen in Washington D.C. by a cousin of a cousin, or some such connection. I didn't want to think about her being anywhere, but if she was still around, being on the other side of the country was a little reassuring.

I'd spent some time with Rosalee at the spice shop, hoping I'd catch Monroe there. Our conversations had mostly revolved around Pete. They were still talking quite frequently, and she was looking forward to finding out if he got the job here in Portland. To be honest, so was I.

"You don't think his sister actually hates me, do you?" Rosalee had asked as she straightened the counter.

"Chloe just takes some time to warm up to people. She's a little over protective, but she's a wonderful woman, she really is."

"Well, I hope she can accept that Pete and I are… friends." She'd blushed slightly at the word. "I really don't want to cause any trouble," she'd added with a frown.

Resting my hand on hers, I'd replied, "I'll work on it, don't worry."

Fortunately, the subject had changed to Monroe, and when I'd asked, Rosalee had told me she'd talked to him a couple of times at the shop. She'd said he seemed to be fine, but he hadn't discussed too much with her. Although I'd tried probing for as much information as I could, all I could garner was his shopping lists. He'd bought some jasmine tea, whole leaf basil, and cinnamon sticks on his last trip. That was as much as she knew.

"Give him some time. I'm sure he'll come around," she'd said with a warm smile. At least she was optimistic.

When I wasn't with friends, I was either out in the woods running, or at yoga. I'd gone everyday, which was an incredible stress reliever. Even the Pilates machine was getting some use. I'd spent way too much money not to use those darn things. The internet had step-by-step instructions for workouts, and surprisingly I'd remembered a few moves from what Monroe had taught me. If I was going to defend myself, then I needed to keep my body strong enough to do it.

Nick had some ideas about defense. He and I were talking again and I'd even been back to the trailer a couple of times. I'd kept my promise to Nick; I wasn't going to hate him because of this. Sure, it wasn't easy after what had gone on between us, but we did work well together, and that database wasn't going to complete itself. Nick had given me the business card of an officer who taught self defense classes at one of the local gyms. It wasn't such a bad idea. Monroe was right, and I needed to learn to defend myself. The officer had a class beginning in a few weeks, so I'd work it into my schedule.

Since I had some free time, I took my car to the shop to fix the holes in my car seat that Mr. Pinhead the Stangebär had left me. I also donated some red clothes to the Goodwill. The small amount of time I did stay at home was spent cleaning out my DVR, talking to Chloe, and long conversations over the computer with my mom. She was near giddy about my upcoming vacation home.

With everything that had happened in Portland lately, I was looking forward to going back to Kentucky, too. I needed away from this place for a while. The slight fear of Adalind's confession about Mr. Royal Pain's jurisdiction ran through me, but it wouldn't stop me. It was my home, and nothing, not even Reapers, the Verrat, or any other crazy group out there, was going to keep me from seeing my mom. If I thought I could finagle it, I'd just move back, be done with it all, and kiss Portland goodbye. But that wasn't feasible nor smart. I could dodge Reapers for a week, but I didn't want to live in a constant battle. It wasn't safe.

Four days, one hour and twenty minutes now. I'd been thinking as more minutes had passed me by. Time separated Monroe and I further as the clock ticked forward. Monroe the clockmaker loved time, but right now I despised it. Finally I stood, jerking my head away from the clock. I'd sit and watch it all night if I kept it up.

I plugged in my MP3 player, putting Diana Ross on repeat like I'd been doing the past few days. I allowed my angsty fourteen year old her sappy music. It was the only thing I would allow.

"_Love is here,__  
__And oh, my darling, now you're gone.__  
__You made me love you,__  
__And oh, my darling, now you're gone…"_

After a few plays tonight I switched it off. I was done with Ms. Ross. The words had run out long enough. I flipped through my MP3 player and turned it to Paul Simon instead. As the sad tunes of the guitar played on I sang along.

"_Don't talk of love,__  
__But I've heard the words before;__  
__It's sleeping in my memory.__  
__I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.__  
__If I never loved I never would have cried.__  
__I am a rock,__  
__I am an island…"_

Monroe wasn't the only one who could be stoic. I'd find some way to bury my emotions and survive. At least, I'd try. God, four days felt like an eternity. My fourteen year old angst tried to break through, but I held it back. No, it was just four days and there would be plenty more after that. I'd be fine.

"_And a rock feels no pain and an island never cries..."_

I'd just have to be a rock and an island. As Paul Simon finished, my cell phone rang out with Dire Straits. I turned off my music and answered the phone with a sigh.

"Hey," I said.

"I'm guessing he hasn't called you yet," said Nick. Was it that obvious? I needed to start sounding like myself again.

"No. He's not going to, and I'm okay with that." There. Acceptance.

"He just needs time," Nick replied. That was always the reply.

"Is that what he told you?"

"Yeah," he breathed out. "In so many words."

"Of course he did." Bros before hoes. I chuckled internally. Well, at least he was still talking to Nick about me. "So did you need something?" I asked him.

"Yeah, actually. I picked up the scanner you recommended, but I can't get it to respond. I scan the pages in, but it's not capturing the image."

"Give me a bit and I'll be over." I scowled as I hung up the phone. To think I'd ever called Nick brilliant. I openly shook my head as I changed into a pair of comfortable jeans and a t-shirt.

It didn't take long to drive to the trailer. I continued with Paul Simon on repeat as I drove. I was a rock and an island. I'd just keep saying it until I believed it.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

"So I have it all hooked up, but it's just not doing anything." Nick pointed to the laptop. "Maybe it's defective."

I walked toward the laptop as Nick pulled out the wooden desk chair for me. He rested his hand on my shoulder and I stiffened.

"What did we talk about?" I removed his hand as I turned toward him. "No touching me, okay?"

"Sorry." Nick raised his hands up. "I forgot."

"And can you button your shirt when I come over here?" I scowled as I glanced at the top of his shirt standing open. "I think I've seen enough of your chest for one lifetime."

Nick's dumb grin surfaced as his fingers found the button hole. "Detective Sexy reads you loud and clear."

I shook my head in disgust and sat down. "And that's getting old, too, Nick."

"You're gonna have to relax." Nick laughed. "I feel just as awkward about some of the things I said and did, too. But rest assured I have no interest in ever doing anything with you ever again."

"Thank God for that." I refrained from an eye roll. "Speaking of, has your Captain said anything yet?"

"Still nothing," Nick replied. "I still don't think it was him that you saw."

"No, it was him." I shook my head at the memory. When it happened, my brain was fuzzy, but I could've sworn he smiled. Maybe Nick was right. With that potion, maybe I was imagining things.

"Juliette stopped by the station for lunch today. She chatted with the captain and Hank. I mean, I don't think he would've said anything if he had seen us, but he didn't seem like Juliette being there was anything but normal."

"I just don't want anything to come out, and we have an encore of what happened with Monroe, especially now that everything is fixed."

"Juliette's claws are less sharp than Monroe's." Nick laughed at his own joke.

"Is there a journal in here to teach you what a real sense of humor is?" I moved the scanner closer. "So, where's the box this came in?" I asked before he could retort.

Nick rummaged around and set the box on top of the desk.

I peered inside and pulled out a CD, shaking my head. "You didn't install the driver."

"Install what?"

"The driver. It's what the… Never mind." It was useless explaining it. "Give me a moment." I slid the CD in the laptop, clicking away until it was complete. "Did you even read the directions?" I asked him once I began a test page.

"Well, I didn't think it was necessary. You just plugged yours in and started scanning."

"Right, because mine was already set up." The test scan completed as the image appeared on the screen. "Okay. Looks like you're good." I glanced up at him. "How are you doing with the rest of the database?"

"It's going fine. I'm keeping the links in order, and I managed to attach a few new Wesen to the index without any trouble."

"Good," I replied with a strained smile. Well, perhaps he wasn't a complete lost cause after all.

"You sure you're still fine with me keeping the laptop?" Nick asked for the hundredth time. "I can understand if you wanna take it back."

"No. Keep it." I insisted for the hundredth time. "Like I told you, the reason for the purchase had nothing to do with the Zaubertrank. I probably would've asked you to chip in, but it was my purchase, and it's already here, so it stays."

"Okay." Nick nodded and then added, "Just checking."

"You want some help while I'm here?" I pointed over at my computer bag. "Two scanners are better than one."

"Yeah," he said. "If you have time, then that would be a big help."

"Time is all I have anymore." I held back my sigh as I focused on the computer screen.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

For the next hour, Nick and I scanned pages in as I tried to avert my gaze of the trailer bed. I'd refused to sit on it since bringing myself to come back to the trailer. Just being back in here had been hard enough as it was. Nick liked to make jokes about the whole thing, but I wasn't laughing. It could've been so much worse. I reminded myself of that daily. Thank goodness he didn't see more of my two-thousand parts. Seeing me in a bra was nothing more than seeing me in a bikini. I could live with that shame. Still, just thinking about where he'd kissed me sent shudders of revulsion right through me.

I yawned as I finished attaching a diagram of a Rotznasig Carcaju to its description and closed my laptop. "I think I'm going to head home. I have two trainings back to back in the morning, and I'm going to do some Pilates before work."

"You're still doing that?"

I shrugged. "I have two Pilates machines. May as well get some use out of them." I looked up at him. "Know of anyone who'd like to buy a gently used one?"

Nick crossed his arms as he leaned back on the trailer bed. "Don't start selling things yet. Too soon for that."

"Monroe won't return my calls, Nick. I'm dead to him. He's abjured me." I stood as I gathered my things in the laptop bag.

"Abjured you? Was that in the Blutbad book? Do they do that?"

I shook my head. "No. It's not in the Blutbad book."

I thought about Alcide abjuring Debbie Pelt in _True Blood_. That's what this felt like anyway. Monroe may not have said the words, but he didn't want to talk to me, see me, or have anything to do with me. It was the best term I could come up with.

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Not sure what you mean, but I don't think Monroe's doing that."

"It's just… It's nothing." I let out a sigh as I slid my laptop bag up my shoulder. "I'm glad he made amends with you at least." I moved toward the trailer door, avoiding Nick's eyes as mine were tearing up. It seemed this island still had a blue lagoon.

"Have a good night, Nick." Without turning, I tossed him a quick wave as I opened the door.

"Hey, Renée. It'll be okay." Nick replied behind me as I went down the steps. "Just give him time."

"He's a clockmaker," I replied back despondently. "He has all the time he needs."

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

Dimming the lights in the living room, I walked over toward my coffee table and lit a few candles. Meditation after yoga was good, but it had been a long while since I'd done my own. Right now I needed to center myself. It was the only way I'd stop this stupid meltdown once and for all. Being this angsty over a guy was draining me dry. I was almost thirty years old. This wasn't my first break-up, and hell, with my track record it wouldn't be my last, either. The melodrama needed to stop, pronto. I was a self-sufficient, intelligent, and headstrong woman. Whatever was destined to happen, I'd always keep moving forward.

I sat down on the floor and crossed my legs. Liquid Blue's 'Autumn Leaves' played softly through my speakers as I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes. I focused on the clear, emerald green sphere of light in my mind's eye, letting it glow in front of me. Everyone had their own symbol, but mine had always been a green sphere. My breaths slowed, and the image sharpened. As the sphere grew larger, I breathed in its energy, filling myself with a familiar tranquility I'd… My eyes shot open. The Zen in the forest… The Waldgeists.

I closed my eyes again, imagining the green light once more as its energy enveloped me. Yes, this was that same feeling. It was more of a manufactured Zen than the natural feeling of being close to my relatives, but it had a similar effect. I reopened my eyes. Perhaps I'd been connecting with my Wesen side all along.

Maybe that was why I'd always seen a green sphere of light. My Ashtanga instructor back home had told me green was my heart Chakra opening up, but maybe the green was the magic of the Waldgeists. Chloe had said that when I'd touched Monroe, a green light came from my hands. And then there was the whole green glow of my eyes. Whatever it was, it was comforting, and I needed comfort right now. I allowed my eyes to close again and lost myself in tranquility.

The CD had long ended before I came out of my meditation. I smiled, which felt almost foreign after the last few days. No matter what happened I would be okay. I stood and stretched my back then lifted my arms, stretching upward. It was late, and I wanted to get my workout done before going to the office in the morning. I walked into my bedroom, closed the blinds, and undressed. After donning my flannel PJs, I pulled the covers back and settled into bed.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so Monroe has been MIA for a few days. There's a little summation of a few things and it seems, although, awkward, Nick and Renée are talking again.

Renée is finding that her Waldgeist side has been manifesting longer than she knew.

But what about Monroe? Guess we'll see what happens. (:

2 chapters to go! (:


	119. Chapter 119

**Chapter 119**

The faint sounds of music woke me out of my dreams, which was probably for the best. Once the dreams of Nick had faded, dreams of Monroe had become the new theme. The sounds beyond my bedroom were getting louder. I drew back the covers and pulled myself out of bed.

"I thought I turned the TV off," I mumbled aloud as I opened my bedroom door and went to the living room. It wasn't the TV. It was coming from outside. I swore I heard… a cello?

I turned on the porch light and opened the door. Amongst the Portland drizzle, Monroe sat in a folding chair on the sidewalk at the bottom of my steps with his cello between his legs. And to top it off, he was wearing my favorite gray sweater under his tan jacket. He grinned at me as I rubbed my eyes.

"Monroe?" I asked tentatively. Maybe I was still dreaming.

He didn't respond, but instead he started to play. It only took a few notes for me to recognize it. Jim Croce's 'I'll Have to Say I Love You in a Song.' Oh, my God. Was he for real?

The melodic, deep tones of the cello echoed loudly on my street as he continued his serenade. The bow glided across the strings, and with it my heart leapt at each note. Monroe played effortlessly while the words danced through my head.

"_Well, I know it's kind of late.__  
__I hope I didn't wake you.__  
__But what I got to say can't wait.__  
__I know you'd understand._

_Every time I tried to tell you,__  
__The words just came out wrong.__  
__So I'll have to say I love you in a song…"_

It was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. I had to pinch myself because it sure felt like the best dream ever. Monroe continued to draw his bow against the strings, eyes red and bright. Tears poured from my eyes. Joyful, wonderful tears. The love for that man was just beyond anything I'd ever felt before.

The porch light flashed on at the house next door.

My neighbor stepped out on her porch in her hairnet and floral nightgown. "We're trying to sleep over here!" she yelled out to Monroe.

Monroe's eyes widened, but he ignored her as he continued to play.

"Are you listening to me, you loon?" she squawked.

Monroe didn't falter as he avoided my neighbor's gaze, playing a bit louder.

She walked to the edge of her porch, turned to me and yelled, "If he doesn't stop, then I'm calling the cops!"

"He'll be done soon," I managed to respond, still in a daze.

Monroe picked up the tempo of the song, and I put my hand to my mouth as he tried unsuccessfully to keep his face from twisting into a growl at my neighbor. When he finished, I ran down the steps to him, while the tears continued to stream down my cheeks. He stood up from the chair and propped up his cello.

"Monroe, I don't understand," I exclaimed. "You've ignored me for days and days, you've…"

"I love you, Renée." He pulled me in tightly as the words trickled into my ears. Nothing else mattered. The days cleared from my mind and were replaced by the most amazing words ever. "It's not exactly a boom box," he said softly in my ear, "but it worked better than in the movie, I hope."

"Monroe, I love you so much!" The crazy 'L' word floated off my tongue in ecstasy. It wasn't crazy anymore. It was wonderful, love, love, love! "It was better than any boom box!" I kissed him so hard that I almost knocked him over.

"Good. He loves you, you love him," yelled my neighbor. We stopped kissing to look up. "Now let the rest of us get some sleep. Sheesh!" She went back inside, slamming her front door behind her.

I reached for his arm. "Oh, Monroe, I'm so sorry about her. She's…"

"I don't care what she says," he scoffed before I could finish. "I wasn't going to have anything stop me this time. I've been trying to do this properly far too long, but it keeps getting messed up." He ran his hand through his hair. "Leos like grand gestures, so I was trying to, you know, be all grand about it."

He'd looked up my sign. Wow…

"I thought you didn't believe in astrology?"

"I don't, but, you know, you do." Monroe gave me a sheepish grin. "So I, umm, did a little reading and once I started… Well, I might not have much of a background in astrological… anything, but from what I could tell, you kinda fit the Leo description, like, quintessentially spot on." He let out a short chuckle. "So, I wanted to do this whole, big romantic… thing, and, umm, win your heart."

"You didn't need to… It didn't have to be…" I wiped away at my tears, but they kept flowing. "Monroe, you've had my heart for a while." I thought back to all the 'big plans' he'd made in the weeks prior, and how each time something had happened. He was persistent, that was for sure. I glanced down at the cello as the rain beaded down the front. I wiped at it with my sleeve. "You've got to cover it up or the water will warp the wood."

Monroe removed his jacket, draping it over the cello. He touched the damp cuff of my PJs. "Back to flannel, huh?"

I chuckled through my tears. "Yeah."

"No, it's fine… great actually. Maybe you're right. Maybe that was the problem. All these big plans just to say the words I'd been wanting to say for a while now. I wanted it to be too perfect, and that's just not us."

"This _was_ perfect." My hand caressed his bearded cheek as he looked back at me. "Beyond perfect."

"Yeah, but we're not. But… umm, I mean that in a good way." He grinned slightly. "We're more muss and fuss, you know?"

"A beautiful mess?"

"Yeah, that." He nodded with a chuckle. "So you being in flannel tonight, that's good. That kinda works." He glanced up. "Actually, the rain is kinda befitting, too."

"But these last few days I thought you hated me. I hadn't heard from you and…"

"Hate you? No…" he cut in, taking my hand and holding it gently. "I just needed time to sort things through. But no matter how much thinking I did, every conclusion came back to one constant… I'm in love with you." He shifted on his heels. "I kinda drove by a few times to make sure you were safe, though."

"Really?" A chuckle escaped me. "Stalker much?" I replied teasingly. Perhaps I hadn't imagined the VW cricket chirps after all.

"Well, I already knew where _you_ lived," he retorted. "So it wasn't stalking as much as, you know, keeping an eye out for any malicious activity. And well, I kinda, umm, missed the scent of your vanilla, too."

I ran a hand through my damp hair as the drizzling rain continued. "I wish you'd done more than just drive by."

"Well, I wanted to do this. And that required some time to memorize the song," he told me as he sported a lopsided grin. "It still wasn't right, but Nick said you were talking about selling my Pilates machine, so I knew I needed to hurry the hell up."

"I wasn't really going to sell it," I admitted. "I was just venting to Nick."

'Well, that's good, 'cause I hope I can still use it."

I chuckled softly. "Yeah, I think I can work you in." I kept his gaze as I added somberly, "But you should've at least called, so I didn't think you'd given up on me."

"I would've, but I needed the distance. Man, with this whole Zaubertrank thing... I mean, to hear you say you loved someone else..." Monroe cupped my chin. "When those words came from your lips and they weren't for me… Oh, dude…" He shook his head as it dipped down. "Cheating isn't, you know, all that easily forgivable. And I know this was like a totally not-your-fault thing, but the hurt was real, man. All the lying and the sneaking around, and the images in my head… It was so brutal." He looked back up with the red in eyes reflecting his pain. "I had to take some time away to purge the bad thoughts out so I could move past this." He gestured toward his temple. "You know, like, really clear my head, which meant no distractions. So I amped up my routine and, you know, centered myself." He sighed. "And, man, it took a lot of centering, lemme tell ya. That night I caught you two I almost destroyed my house, fighting with myself, just to keep from hunting down Nick, and…" His mouth formed a thin line. "Well, let's just say that my control is better than I thought it was, and we'll leave it at that."

The tears began once more. "Monroe, you'll never know how sorry I am that this happened."

Thank goodness for his control. If Mr. Royal Pain had done his homework, perhaps he'd have realized I was dating a Blutbad, and that Blutbad might've killed the Grimm, screwing up his baby-making plans. Stupid Royal. Stupid Zaubertrank.

"You don't have to apologize anymore," Monroe replied, his eyes fading back to brown. "But like I said, some things are gonna need to change. These four days have been, like, hell, and that was with knowing you were safe in your house every night. If I ever lost you for real, well, it would kill me…"

I nodded slowly. "I'm sorry I keep things from you, and that I'm stubborn, and reckless, and stupid…"

Monroe kissed me before I kept on blabbering. Once he let go he said, "One thing you never are is stupid. The other things, well…"

My neighbor reemerged. "Talking is just as annoying as that cello," she whined. "Go do that inside, so I can get my beauty sleep!"

"We'll be inside soon. I'm sorry!" I called out as my neighbor disdainfully shook her head. I turned to Monroe once she was inside. "Don't listen to her. Your cello was delightful."

"Eh, I'm ignoring her comments. It just adds to our beautiful mess," he quipped. "Speaking of, she'll need more than a few hours if she's sleeping for beauty, if you ask me."

I shook my head at him, but I didn't verbally disagree. He was probably right.

Monroe's eyes brightened. "Oh! Almost forgot!" Monroe bent down under his chair and returned with a bouquet of roses. Beautiful, lavender roses.

"Oh, Monroe," I said in awe.

"We live in the city of roses, but these were the hardest things to find. But I found them." Monroe held them out to me while grinning. "This I actually got right."

My heart melted. "So what does lavender mean?" I asked while reaching for the bouquet as the scent enveloped me.

"Yeah, I thought you might ask that." He hesitated, but then with a smirk he replied, "It means love at first sight. I know, I know… it's sappy, right?"

"I knew lavender was my favorite color for a reason." I held the roses to my nose. "And if it's the truth, then it's not sappy."

"Well, it's the truth," he replied as his genuine smile emerged. "That doesn't scare ya, does it?"

"You're asking the gal who's dating a Blutbad if that's scary?" I bit my lip. If the Big Bad Wolf thought I was scared because he fell for me at a bar, then he really needed to rethink our abnormal relationship.

"Okay, well, maybe scary isn't the right word." Monroe took my face in his hands as he kissed me hard. "I mean this in a good way, but I'm kinda glad your cam wheel jammed. I mean, I normally don't find joy when a clock breaks, but, you know, yours was the exception, man." He kissed me once more. "Thank goodness for the universe, huh?"

"It sure knew what it was doing," I replied against his lips.

"When you came back into my life, it renewed my faith in a lot of things," he said as he held me. "Especially love."

"And you reminded me what love really is." As I let him go I added, "Monroe, I think you just turned us into a predictable, romantic movie."

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind." I shook my head as I grinned. Move over Mark Darcy, I had my Monroe, just like it was meant to be. "Now bring that wonderful cello of yours inside and love me the rest of the way before my neighbor comes out again and turns the hose on us."

Monroe wiped at his forehead. "With this rain I think we've gotten hosed down enough already, but you don't have to ask me twice." Monroe shook out his wet jacket, folded up his chair, sliding it under his arm, and then picked up his cello with ease. "So I gotta ask, man… You sure you wouldn't prefer Nick over me?" He flashed me a teasing grin.

"Oh, hush!" I cried out while he laughed. "You. Always you."

I took Monroe's arm as we walked up to the house. The chair, cello and roses were set aside, as he took me in his arms, kissing down my face. My fingers tangled in his wet curls. We were nearly drenched from standing outside so long, but I didn't care. I'd missed him so much.

"I love you," he murmured once he reached my neck. The words brushed against my skin, sending shivers all through me.

"Not as much as I love you," I sighed out as he trailed more kisses over my face and back to my lips. "It's wonderful to finally say it aloud." I could say it over and over.

Monroe chuckled. "Yeah, umm, _finally_."

I looked up at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It doesn't matter." He leaned down to kiss me again.

"No, what?" I asked as I let his lips go.

"Well, it's not _exactly_ all that true."

"Huh?"

Monroe cleared his throat. "I guess you don't, umm, remember everything about that night I picked you up at Nick's trailer when you had too much tequila, huh?"

Oh, dear God…

"You were singing a lot that night," he continued, "and then you sang Herman's Hermit's 'Do You Wanna Know a Secret,' and you _kinda_ told me you loved me, umm, a _few_ times."

I gasped as my face flushed hot. I told him! Oh, holy crap! I controlled my voice as I replied, "Okay, well first of all, that's The Beatles, and secondly, why on Earth didn't you say anything?"

Monroe laughed then replied, "Well, as you reminded me, the song says that I wasn't supposed to tell." His smug grin was fully visible. "And I took you out the next night, you know, under the stars so I could say it back, but then… Well, you know the rest."

I ducked my head down. "And all this time you knew?"

"Well, I had a good feeling before, but that night, you know, just helped confirm it. But you were drunk, like, I'm talking really drunk, so I mean, it didn't count like tonight did."

"Oh my…" So I'd said it already. All these silly fears that I was going let it slip out, that it was too soon, or that I wasn't ready, and I'd already said it, apparently many times. Wow…

He lifted my chin, giving me another kiss. "I'm glad it happened. Lemme tell ya, remembering that night kinda got me through this, because I knew you loved me and, you know, that gave me a modicum of hope."

I held his gaze, holding back my tears. "But you said it was sour grapes."

Monroe curled his arms around me. "Yeah, well, a wise woman once said that you gotta climb the tree to find out those grapes are pretty awesome or, you know, something like that."

"Thanks for climbing the tree." I leaned up to kiss him again. "Now you wanna pick off a few grapes?"

"I plan on having more than just grapes," he replied as his eyes burned brightly in my dimly-lit living room. The red and green lights danced along the walls as I forced my eyes in return.

Monroe stepped back. "When did you learn to do that?"

"Just something I've been practicing."

A small grin formed under his beard. "You're just full of surprises."

"We both are," I grinned in reply.

Monroe cupped my face in his hands. "And there'll be many more to come."

With that he kissed me deeply and with a resonance that filled my heart. Every word, every thought, every feeling poured out from that kiss. He slipped off my soggy, flannel PJs, and I peeled off his soaked, gray sweater, our mouths barely pausing while our clothes fell off, piece by piece.

Our bodies melded as one as I wrapped my legs around his waist. He carried me to the bedroom, alternating between unhurried kisses to more fervent ones.

As Monroe lay me down on the bed, he gazed at me with such desire that I was giddy and perhaps a bit overwhelmed. Never had I felt so completely wanted than at this moment.

He closed the distance between us and moved on top of me. "It shouldn't have taken me this long to say it back." His words came out with unsteady breaths. "I shouldn't have waited."

"Even without the words, it was always there, Monroe. It's always been there. You know it and I know it."

"Ever thine, ever mine, ever ours." Each phrase was separated with Monroe's kiss. Beethoven's words stilled my heart. I was his and he was mine. Ever ours. Forever and always. My Leo Love Bug reached new heights.

As Monroe made love to me, we were filled with an ever-present current of heat and electricity coursing back and forth between us… mouths kissing, hands caressing, hearts and souls combined. Every touch sent a conflagration through me. Oh, this went beyond just sex. This was love… Pure, unconditional, real love. We moved slowly, letting the passion build and swell. Our bodies intertwined, and I reveled in the heat of my skin against his, creating a sweet-scented mixture of Old Spice and vanilla.

"Mine," Monroe whispered near my ear. No demanding tone, just the lovely word, 'Mine.'

"Yours," I breathed out. No inhibitions, no reservations.

My chest beat madly against Monroe's as we crashed together. Words were lost and were replaced by rapturous moans. Nothing else mattered, everything else drifted away in that moment. It was the most delicious pleasure I'd ever experienced.

My heart wouldn't settle down long after we'd finished. I hummed as Monroe traced his fingers down my hip.

"_Me and you and you and me.__  
__No matter how they tossed the dice, it had to be.__  
__The only one for me is you and you for me.__  
__So happy together._

_I can't see me loving nobody but you,__  
__For all my life.__  
__When you're with me,__  
__Baby, the skies will be blue,__  
__For all my life…"_

"I almost played that one on my cello," said Monroe, his voice catching me off guard.

I tilted my head up at him. "Really?"

"Honest to God."

"This one is good, but the other one was better."

Monroe lightly chuckled. "So, I chose well, huh?"

I leaned in to kiss him. "Perfect."

As my head rested back on the pillow, I smiled. There I was, back on cloud nine again, with a sky of blue surrounding me, driving off the dark clouds of the past few months. The only thing that kept me from floating away was Monroe's strong arms holding me tight as we lay in bed. My smile wouldn't leave my face. The universe had finally renewed my happiness after so many people had tried to destroy it.

"Thank you universe," I murmured under my breath as Monroe cradled me in his embrace. "Thank you for everything!"

* * *

A/N: YAY! So Monroe returned with a big surprise for Renée, and that crazy "L" word is finally out there. But the twist of it all was that Renée had told him she loved him already. Tee-hee!

So the Jim Croce song has been dancing in my head throughout this whole story... All those times he tried to say he loved her back, all the crazy ways he wanted to do it perfectly, but then it would get fouled up. This song fit the whole thing perfectly.

So I did a search on YouTube for someone playing this song on cello to add to the story, but guess what... No one had a video of a cello. So I went on a mission, writing emails to YouTubers, requesting the song, but to no avail.

Then one day I got a reply from a guy named Niklas in Germany. (Yes, I said Germany! How befitting, right?) He was interested in helping me with my little project. Niklas practiced the song, added a little background music, and uploaded the video to YouTube just for me!

*****You need to watch this video!*****  
This guy is wonderful and has a few other cello videos, too. Be sure to click on the like button on his video for me and subscribe. If he's willing, he might play some more songs for us. (;

Copy and paste this into Google - **pP6ugMwpslE**  
It should be the first YouTube that comes up! Do it, do it, do it! (I also have the direct link on my profile in case you can't find it.)

Thank you, Niklas, for your help in adding this extra, special touch to my little, love story. Danke!

One more chapter left to tie everything up. Hope you enjoyed this. Please comment and let me know what you thought!


	120. Chapter 120

**Chapter 120**

"_We found love in a hopeless place.__  
__We found love in a hopeless place…"_

I sang along to Rihanna's words playing through my headphones as I mixed the batter in my bowl. My hips swayed to the rhythm while I breathed in the scent of lavender rose petals that infused my kitchen. In the city of Portland, where crazy things and crazier Wesen resided, we'd found love. Maybe it wasn't such a hopeless place after all.

I glanced through the doorway over at the cello propped up against the bookshelf in the living room. Last night was more than I could've ever asked for. Monroe was amazing, absolutely amazing. And he loved me…

"_It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny…"_

My smile permeated while I whisked away, moving my feet across the kitchen floor. Suddenly a pair of hands pulled me back, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned quickly to Monroe's silly grin.

He removed my headphones. "It's five-thirty. What in the hell are you doing up?" His grin cast down on me. "And what are you making?"

"Banana nut muffins," I replied. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, I'm surprised all right," he replied while taking in my disaster of a kitchen. I had the counter covered with measuring cups, eggs, flour, bananas, a bag of walnuts, and my mom's recipe book she'd given me. "So… umm, you need any help?"

"No, I've got this," I told Monroe, shooing him away. "By the time you finish your Pilates, you'll have delicious, warm muffins with breakfast."

"There's breakfast, too?"

"Oh, there's more than that," I grinned and then stretched up to kiss him.

"I love you," Monroe said and I sighed at the words. It wasn't a dream.

"I love you, more."

"As long as I'm the only one," he playfully smirked.

"That I can guarantee."

Monroe took the mixing bowl from my hands and set it down on the counter. He pulled me in close for a deeper kiss. God, his mouth was delightful.

I finally pulled back. "I need to finish these muffins, Mister."

"Okay, okay," he replied and lightly kissed my forehead. Monroe headed toward the living room while I worked the batter into the muffin pan and popped it into the oven.

"Hey, Honey. What's this on the table?" Monroe called out. "Please tell me it isn't a leftover gift from Nick or something."

"Gift?" I asked as I went into the living room.

Sitting on the coffee table was the red wrapping paper and the white bow. Oh, Hugues Nuages! It had been sitting there for days now.

I leaned against the doorway as I bit my lower lip. "Actually, that's for you."

"For me? Hmm…" He lifted the package as he had a small twitch. "Red wrapping paper again, huh?"

"It's your favorite color."

Tapping the bow on top with one finger, he raised an eyebrow. "White ribbon?"

I smiled coyly and then replied, "That's for later."

A devilish grin formed under Monroe's beard along with a flash of red in his eyes. Instead of replying, he tore away the wrapping paper, and his eyes lit up at the sight of the record. "Whoa! Where did you find this?" he asked as he jumped up from the couch.

"I have connections," I responded with a playful smirk.

Monroe set the record down and rushed over, lifting me off my feet as he embraced me. "You are just… I'm… Man..."

"I'm glad you like it," I chimed in.

He grinned widely as he gently let me down. "Dude, you have no idea." Rushing back, he removed the record from its sleeve. "This thing is, like, in pristine condition. Man, not even a smudge! I need to play it." He bounced around my living room, looking around. "Where's your record player?"

"I don't have one."

He turned quickly toward me. "You don't have a record player?"

"No," I smirked as I shrugged. "I'm just not as cool as you are."

"Oh, well that won't do." Monroe shook his head at me. "You know, I could get you one. Actually we could add some other things to this living room while we're at it." He moved about the room, commenting on additions I could really use here and there.

Chuckling softly, I crossed the room and reached for him. "You know best, Mr. Monroe."

Monroe took me into his arms and held me tight. "That I do."

I gazed up into his soulful, brown eyes that crinkled under his genuine smile. Everything else melted away as I rested my head against his chest. I was so thankful to have him. This year had really taken its toll. Too many things had tried to destroy us…tried to destroy my Sweater Guy, but in the end, love had conquered all. Oh, love. We were in love, and that was stronger than anything.

As I held Monroe close, I glanced out the window at the beautiful, spring day. The sunshine beamed through the glass. Pure perfection. Although it had taken its sweet time to get here, spring was still the best season of all.

**To Be Continued…****  
****_Sweaters Are Better to Love You With_****_  
_****Coming this Fall 2013!**

* * *

A/N: These author's notes are gonna be lengthy, so I apologize ahead of time, but it's the last one. LOL!

So after all the crazy extremes, Monroe and Renée found love in Portland. AWWW!

Monroe got his record, and it looks like he has more ideas for Renée's house, too. LOL! White ribbon? Oh my... (;

This story is over! OMG!  
**THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!**

They say it takes a village to raise a child. Well, I think it takes a village to write a story, too.  
So I have a few shout outs:

First, I'd like to thank my husband. He has suffered my, "Monroe and Renée should do this..." and "Maybe Monroe oughta do that..." month after month and hasn't divorced me yet. LOL! I love you, Honey! *smooches*

Secondly, I'd like to thank Grimm. I LOVE THIS FANDOM! Never in my wildest of dreams would I have ever thought I'd be writing stories, but those wonderful creators have built a world and characters that I both love and adore... May they have many more seasons to keep me entertained for years to come!

Thirdly, I'd like to thank my editor, Snapdragon213. She has been with me for the last two stories, and has helped with the good chapters and the bad. Her insight, ideas, and suggestions have been a godsend. I appreciate you so much, Paula!

Fourth, I'd like to thank my Grimmster editors. Sometimes I need more than a second set of eyes, and I was blessed with two extra sets. Rebecca and Helena, you guys are so wonderful! Thank you, thank you, thank you!  
Rebecca, I couldn't have finished this story without you. Your encouragement has been priceless. I adore you!  
Helena, your eagle eyes are spot on, and I appreciate every little nudge with wording as the chapters went up.

Fifth, I'd like to thank my two cellists for taking the time to make YouTube videos to go along with Monroe playing the cello for Renée. Hayden and Niklas, you guys are so awesome for adding to my story! (If you haven't watched and liked their videos, please do so. Go to my profile on here for the links and have a listen!)

Last, but definitely not least, I want to thank **my readers**! You guys are why I write these stories. (Okay, so maybe they've become novels. lol) Thank you for trusting me with this crazy tale, and sticking with me when some of these chapters were a bit on the extreme side.  
A special shout out goes to Grimmgirl18, who has been the bestest fan I could have ever asked for. She has stayed up many a night to read my chapters, and always has something kind to say. She's even writing her own Grimm fanfic now, so keep an eye out when she starts posting, folks. (:

Usually I have a glass of wine after completing a fan-fic, but tonight I'm having a huge pitcher of margaritas and probably a few tequila shots to go with it after I watch Grimm tonight. WHEW!

This has been a loooooong story. Never will I write one this long again. It turned out to be approximately 315,000 words and 120 chapters. That's like the equivalent of a Robert Jordan, or George R.R. Martin novel. (They're large books!) The total of words for all three of my stories are higher than the Lord of the Rings trilogy, I kid you not! Yes, I think I'm just a bit wordy! LOL!

*****If you like what I'm doing, please favorite this story, follow, and review!*******  
**If you guys want more, leave me a comment, favorite this story, and if the interest is there to continue this journey, then you'll see more of me. I appreciate every comment, they make my day!  
I already have ideas for story #4, which will be titled "Sweaters Are better to Love You With." (Aww, it's sweet, right?)

Thanks again for reading, and I hope you've enjoyed this one!

~DeWinter79~


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